


Project Angel. Immunity. Cure.

by sobsicles



Series: Zombie Apocalypse AU [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Additional Tags May Be Added, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Being Touch Starved, Everyone caring about each other, Everyone is an idiot in love, F/M, Falling in love during the end of the world, Found Family Dynamics, Going on a Quest, Good Moments and Somber Moments, Graphic depictions of fucking obliterating zombies, Grief, Jonathan is a good guy, M/M, Meaning Jace and Simon do NOT die, NONE OF YOUR FAVES DIE, No one dies who did not die in the show, Pining, Sebastian is his own person, Temporary Minor Character Death, Vampires and that one time Jace died not included, and also some fluff, canon references, everyone is a badass, help them, its fineeee tho i promise, meaning Jonathan and him are seperate, surviving the end of the world, this is however
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 82,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles
Summary: Four years ago, a virus broke out and ruined the world. It took two weeks to spread out of New York, and three months before it had infected every other human being on the planet. No one knows why it was released, but the world hasn't been the same ever since.Through death and destruction, the remaining survivors have to find hope in the midst of despair, loyalty amongst betrayal, and the strength to love when loss is almost always a guarantee.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Sebastian Verlac, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland
Series: Zombie Apocalypse AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706194
Comments: 206
Kudos: 288





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. 
> 
> Y'all, I have been so excited to share this fic for quite some time. I've been working on it so hard, and I'm so very excited about it. 
> 
> A couple of things to note:  
> I will be posting every Wednesday, every week. Each new chapter will be promo-ed on my Shadowhunter Tumblr by the name of: jimonsprettyface
> 
> Please go follow, because each chapter will be promo-ed with a moodboard, all of which I've spent hours on and have had so much fun making. Character moodboards, Zombie Apocalypse moodboards, Relationship Moodboards, ect. Each Wednesday, I will show a new one, usually pertaining to each chapter, possibly with some clues involved. 
> 
> With that being said, this is a Zombie Apocalypse fic, so of course it will be a bit heavier than most. But, as always, I will have good moments to weigh out the bad, and I always promise a happy ending!
> 
> Now, go forth and enjoy. This opening is a doozy ;)

The ground is slick with mud. Thin, oily spillage that clings to his pants, spraying up into his face from the pounding rain, getting in his eyes and mouth. It blinds him, and it tastes like grit. 

The sound of groans split through the unforgiving rain, loud and croaky, so ominous that it rings in his ears. Bones crack beneath his hands, splintering as he shoves his blade into whatever chest cavity comes too close. It's not enough--never is--and he has to snatch the blade out to swing it up, burying it through the resistant skull in front of him with a sickening squelch. The blade struggles to pull free when he yanks on it, but he tugs and tugs, grunting as it finally chips the bone open and comes out. 

There's a deafening screech from behind him, and he whirls around, heart tumbling in his chest. He can't see, but he knows that scream. 

_Clary._

Not her, not-- 

"Jace!" 

He's running before he even realizes it, shoving decaying bodies away as he goes, slicing at rotting skin to make a path. He comes skidding to a stop beside the form slumped down in the mud, hitting his knees and flinching as his hair flops muddy and wet into his eyes. 

Through the rain and the encompassing darkness, he can just make out the bent form of Clary, something solid curled close to her chest. She rocks back and forth, quiet for now, and it takes her a long moment before she screams again. 

He's almost too scared to scoot forward and find out who the body in Clary's lap belongs to. He knows it can't have been Izzy, since she's the one who screamed for him, and it's not Alec, since he's still fighting. The mere thought that it's Jonathan, or Jocelyn, or--or...god, it could be Simon. It could be--

"Jace!" Izzy calls out again, grunting as she shoves away the mindless creature snapping at her flesh. 

Right. This isn't-- Whoever it is, they can't stay here. 

"Clary," Jace says, shouting over the rain as he reaches out with shaking hands, leaning forward to squint at the body. It's--oh no, no no _no,_ it's Jocelyn. This can't be happening. "Clary, we have to--" 

"No!" Clary screams, head snapping up, her pale face almost luminescent in the darkness. Her eyes gleam wildly. "No, we are _not_ leaving her." 

Helplessly, Jace swallows and looks around, taking in the reanimated bodies that are fighting valiantly to converge on them. He can just make out the faint visage of Jonathan and Alec fighting back-to-back, none the wiser to what's playing out a mere few feet away. Past them, way too far, Simon is ducking and dodging as he swings wildly with his bat, breaking and busting in skulls. 

"Clary, _please,"_ Izzy begs, stepping back with her chest heaving, hair a wet mess of clumps around her face as she drops to her knees. 

"Okay," Jace says firmly. "Okay. We're going. Clary, we're _going._ Now!" 

"Not without--" 

"I know! Just come on!" 

"Alec! _Alec!"_ Izzy surges to her feet, bolting forward to scream the retreat. "Idris! We're going! SIMON, _IDRIS!"_

Jace doesn't wait to see if they'll hear. He can't, won't. He dips down to gracelessly jerk Jocelyn's dead weight into his arms, grunting as he pulls her away from a clinging Clary. After a moment, she seems to understand what he's doing, and she surges to her feet, gathering her weapons through her tears. 

The rattling of bones seems to echo in his head, making his teeth grind as he takes off at a run. The others will follow, they have to, he needs them to. 

They will. 

They _do._

* * *

Four years ago, a virus broke out and ruined the world. It took two weeks to spread out of New York, and three months before it had infected every other human being on the planet. No one knows why it was released, but the world hasn't been the same ever since. 

At first, scientists hadn't understood it, hadn't been able to make sense of a disease that only transferred through saliva directly into the bloodstream. They didn't know why, or how, people turned feral and insane, dying before reanimating to try and spread the disease farther. No one knows who patient zero was, and at this point, it doesn't really matter. 

Jace had been--thankfully--at Clary's eighteenth birthday party when Brooklyn was ripped apart. Fortunately, most of his family and friends had been there with him, together as the news had broken out. He remembers standing in front of the TV, shoulder-to-shoulder with Alec as visibly shaken newscasters warned people to stay in their homes. He'd watched, feeling sick, as screams broke out on the screen when mangled bodies flooded the room and tore the people apart, blood spraying. 

He remembers thinking, selfishly, that he was glad the world decided to end on that day than any other. He had his family and friends, or most of them. No one knows where Robert and Max are, whether they're alive or turned, and no one talks about it. 

It had taken only three days for everything to completely go to shit. Staying in Jocelyn's apartment with the door locked and the blinds closed wasn't exactly long-term sufficient. Things had grown quiet for the most part--the screaming from outside had stopped, the alarms on the cars on the street had finally given up, and it had gone from sounding like a horror movie at all times to ominous silence. 

Jace thinks back on the beginning and likens it to a baby foal learning to walk from the first day it's born. They'd had no choice _but_ to adapt, picking their way through a zombie ridden city, struggling to stay alive amongst the starving dead. They'd found others, joined with survivors that quickly went from strangers to family, and many of them were dead now. Not all, but most. 

That's what happens. People try their best, and they fight as hard as they can, but they all just...die. At some point, in some way or another. Sometimes, Jace feels like that's all they're doing, just waiting their turn before they can retire from this hell. 

It doesn't make this any easier. 

"I'm sorry, biscuit," Magnus says softly, brave and respectful enough to look Clary in the eyes, his expression drawn and somber. 

Clary's lips tremble around a near-silent sob, and she turns her face into Jonathan's chest, her shoulders hiking up with tension. Jonathan's eyes flutter closed, and he presses his face into her hair, thin hands reaching up to cup her head. 

Jace looks away, a lump in his throat, and his eyes find Maryse's. She has her hand over her mouth, eyes brimming with tears, her other hand pressed tight to her stomach like she might be feeling sick. He helplessly imagines her on the table instead, sweaty and still, dying slowly from the torn flesh of her arm. The thought makes him recoil and flinch. 

"I'll do it," Jonathan rasps, his throat bobbing as he picks his head up. When Clary rears back, her cheeks tear-stricken, he nods. "I can do it, Clary. Y-you shouldn't have to do it." 

Clary jerks back, her shoulders straightening. "She's our mom, Jonathan. We do it _together."_

"I--I can make arrangements," Maryse chokes out, making everyone look over at her. She swallows thickly before clearing her throat. "I'll have some of the others start digging outside." 

"Thank you," Clary says softly. 

Maryse nods. "Anywhere particular?" 

"Next to Harriet. She loved Harriet," Jonathan whispers, eyes downcast. "They used to play cards well on into the morning, swapping stories about the good old days. She--she would have wanted to be put beside Harriet." 

"Of course," Maryse says cordially, dipping her head and taking a step back. "I'll go gather the others." 

"I'm coming with you," Simon speaks up, his jaw clenched as he looks up. 

"Simon," Clary whispers, reaching out towards him, tears glittering in her eyes all over again. 

"She was like a mother to me after--after what happened with…" Simon trails off, his voice cracking. He releases a slow breath, eyes closing for a moment, his pain palpable in the air. Then he opens them and sniffs, staring at Clary with determination. "I'll dig her grave, Clary. I'll do that for her." 

Clary nods, the skin beside her eyes tightening, and she pulls her outstretched hand close to her body, tiny fist pressed tight to her chest like her heart physically hurts. "Thank you." 

"I'll help," Alec murmurs, giving Clary and Jonathan a respectful nod, which they both return. 

With that, Simon and Alec follow Maryse out of the room, their heads ducked down. Jace crosses his arms and breathes evenly, looking over at Izzy, staring into her sorrow-filled eyes. 

Magnus takes a deep breath. "She's gone. It won't be long now." 

Clary's face crumbles, and she lets out a wet breath, stumbling a few steps back, right into Izzy's awaiting arms. Izzy strokes her hair, while Jace steps up to catch Jonathan as his knees give out, flinching as he catches him. 

"She--she's…" Jonathan's breath rattles out of him, and he blinks like he's dazed, staring at Jace in confusion like he can't fathom that his mother is actually dead. "Jace, I--I can't--" 

"I know," Jace whispers uselessly, heart wrenching violently in his chest as Jonathan's tears finally spill from his eyes.

It's not even a question of what should be done; Jace pulls Jonathan into a hard hug, not even protesting when Jonathan's skinny fingers dig into his shoulders. He clings too hard, probably leaving bruises in Jace's skin, but Jace doesn't protest. He forces himself to accept the contact, flinching through it, his eyes screwed shut tightly.

Jocelyn's body twitches on the table, the first signs of her coming back, and Jace quickly pulls away, ignoring the snot on his shirt from where Jonathan has weeped into it. He shares a look with Magnus, who just looks down at Jocelyn's lifeless body, eyes swirling with emotion. 

"Magnus." 

Head snapping up, Magnus releases a sigh, shoulders sagging. "Yes," he says, nodding, "help me carry her. We don't have too long now." 

Jace squeezes Jonathan's shoulder before he backs away entirely, moving over to Magnus' side. Together, they each take half of her weight, holding each other's gaze and refusing to look down at the dead body of a long-time friend and family member. 

This is not the first time they've done this. 

Jocelyn is deposited gently on the floor of the basement in the old, shabby church they've all been holed up in for two years. There's darkened bloodstains on the floor where they've had to do this before, black and misshapen, permanent proof of things they'd rather forget but will never be able to. 

By the time they've reached the door, Jocelyn's body has started to convulse, veins turning black and thickening under gray skin. 

This is possibly the worst part of the disease. The only way to kill it is to catch it in action. They can't give her the mercy of killing the disease before it takes over--putting a bullet or knife into the brain after a bite doesn't work, not unless the disease has reanimated the body. They have no choice but to let Jocelyn turn, let her become a mindless creature, then--and only then--they can put her down and out of her misery. 

It's a harrowing sight, it always is. There's something utterly inhuman about it, about the way her body arches and bows in on itself, seizing as her mouth parts to let out a raspy roar. It won't take her long to stand, to sniff out the scent of life, to be unable to resist the urge to snuff it out. 

From behind them, Clary whispers, "Is she--" 

"Almost," Magnus answers, face twisting as he slowly steps back. "We'll give you both privacy."

With that, Jace ducks his head and follows Izzy and Magnus out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud clang that makes him flinch. 

"I'm going to get her sheet to wrap her in," Izzy murmurs solemnly, swiping at her cheeks as she marches away, no doubt feeling as useless as everyone else does at the moment. 

The room is specifically designed for this, for the one purpose of releasing their own people from the disease. Noise is encased in the room, not reaching upstairs or outside at all, so there's no danger of alerting any undead that may be roaming nearby. Even still, Jace and Magnus can hear some things. 

They can hear it when the newly turned Jocelyn realizes that she's awakened into a room with two people who are alive, a creature now, unable to recognize them as her children as she lets out a gargled shriek. They can hear it when Clary and Jonathan choke out apologies, their voices barely drifting out, overlapping and almost indistinct, but full of emotion nonetheless. And they hear it when the gun fires, when the sharp crack reverberates in the room, when Jocelyn's body hits the ground with a dull thud and everything goes quiet.

Jace doesn't want to know which one pulled the trigger. He never wants that knowledge.

The silence is deafening. 

Izzy returns a few moments later, a white sheet bundled into her arms, and she pauses outside of the door. For a moment, she closes her eyes and breathes, her face a mask of grief. Then she straightens, standing tall as she makes her way into the room. Magnus and Jace share a quick look before turning to follow, standing a little too close as they try and draw comfort from the proximity of each other. 

Clary is on the ground beside Jocelyn's body, holding her limp hand, and Jonathan is doing the same on the other side. Izzy sinks down beside Clary, softly murmuring to them, reaching out to gently wrap Jocelyn's body in the sheet. Clary and Jonathan have to let go so Izzy can tie off the body, and they do after a long moment of simply crying.

"I can carry her," Jace offers quietly. 

It seems fitting, somehow, that he be the one to carry her to her grave after having carried her home. No one argues with him, so he slowly walks over to dip down and haul her body into his arms, swallowing the grunt he wants to give from the strain, feeling that it's inappropriate. 

In silence, they all walk out of the basement, up the stairs, through the near-silent church, and outside where everyone seems to be waiting. 

The grave is deep, and Simon, Jonathan, and Alec help Jace lower Jocelyn into it. After, the entire group that resides in the church comes together to throw a shovel of dirt into the grave, slowly but surely covering Jocelyn's body. Just before the last blot of the sheet gets covered in soil, Jace remembers that Jocelyn had stolen his poptart just this morning, remembers her laugh as she teased him, her eyes glittering with amusement and fondness. 

Jace knows it shouldn't hurt this much anymore, not after so many years of dealing with this, but it does anyway. He mourns, and he grieves, and he feels the loss as deeply as if she'd died in a world where death is much more of a surprise. 

That's how the world is now. Someone smiles at you one morning, and by nightfall, they're being buried. Death isn't shocking, it's commonplace. Knowing that doesn't make this any easier. 

Nothing about this is easy. 

It never will be. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter up!!! Still so very excited for this fic, y'all have no idea. Again, my moodboard is up on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface
> 
> This week, it's Magnus Bane ;) 
> 
> Enjoy!

They call it the Institute. 

After two years of traveling from empty warehouses and abandoned homes, scavenging for food, picking up other survivors and losing them, they finally found this place. An old, decrepit church on its last leg--not seeming all that stable, looking more like a stray wind could knock it over. At first, it had just been a place to stay for a few days, a simple safe haven after days of being on the run. 

That all changed when they actually _explored_ the church. As far as accommodations go, it's not actually all that helpful. However, it has a lot of rooms, suggesting that it was possibly a Catholic school at one time. More importantly, there's an underground sewer system directly behind the church that lets them come and go as they please without ever alerting any of the undead. Even _more_ important than that, it sits on a plot of land that stretches out into surrounding trees and open area, which is perfect for placing traps and alarms. 

Nothing sets foot on this land without them knowing about it, and they can get in and out of the compound without ever letting the zombies know that they're here at all. In the two years that they've settled here, they've turned the old church into something livable. 

Everyone has their own rooms, or some share--Alec and Jace share a room, sleeping on shitty mattresses and sharing closet space. Magnus has a room that has basically been dubbed the infirmary, possibly the cleanest room in this place. He and Caterina are wildly different when it comes to medicine, but they both work seamlessly together to cure ailments and heal injuries like magic. Caterina used to be a nurse, but Magnus was more of a home-remedy sort, and they have rightfully earned their places as the medical leads of the group. There's also the kitchen, which actually used to be a room where Sunday school took place, and it now holds all the supplies they'd managed to cart into this place--mostly things that they can pack up and use on the go, things that don't require electricity. 

One of Jace's favorite rooms in the Institute is the area where church used to be held. All the pews had been trashed, the salvageable wood scrapped to be used resourcefully, but otherwise it hadn't been changed. People still come in to light the candles at the altar, sometimes praying to the dusty statue of Jesus, kneeling before it and asking God why. There's something about that, about seeing people demand an explanation from someone Jace doesn't believe exists. Strangely enough, it brings him peace, somehow restoring his faith in humanity when the world seems to have no scrap of it left. 

It also has a lot to do with the mixture of religions that takes place in this room. Simon is Jewish, and he practices it shamelessly, uncaring to the others that practice their own beliefs--Buddhists next to Christians, next to Jewish, next to Muslims, next to Pagans, surrounded by Atheists. There's something about seeing that, about the end of the world bringing people together in this way, that makes Jace wish he was capable of being religious himself. 

There is, of course, his least favorite room. The basement. The concrete floors and padded walls to trap in the sound of a gun firing. So many of their own killed in there, rising up after having been taken by one bite, falling right back down after a bullet through the forehead. People he's disliked, people he's barely known, people he's considered friends or family. Most recently, Jocelyn. 

"She won't eat," Izzy whispers, sinking down in the open spot on Jace's left, jerking her chin at Clary. 

Jace follows her gaze, frowning as he takes in Clary leaning against the wall, legs pulled against her chest, ignoring it as Simon tries to coax her to eat. Jonathan is currently being forced to eat by Luke, but he doesn't look like he's managing all that well. 

"I'll see what I can do." Jace sighs and holds out his can of corn to Izzy. "Wanna finish this?" 

"Yeah, thanks," Izzy murmurs, taking the can and digging out a spoonful, shoving it in her mouth. 

Jace offers her a nod before he pushes himself to his feet, slowly crossing the room. Alec nods at him from where he's talking to Aline, both of their arms crossed, postures tense. They're no doubt discussing the last mission and where it went wrong, though Jace doesn't really see the point--the way things are these days, anything can go wrong for no reason at all, that's just how it is. 

He ambles carefully over to Clary, eyes flicking over to Simon briefly. Neither of them look great, really. Then again, no one ever does these days. Getting and staying clean isn't the easiest, but they all manage the best they can. Birdbaths are the usual for them--they have so many spray bottles of shampoo and baby wipes that it's not even funny. Make-up, however, isn't all that hard to come by. It's not exactly the first thing to go in a zombie apocalypse, so they usually can pick some up on their raids for supplies, plus Izzy has made it her hobby to learn how to _make_ it when they run out. It's rare to see Izzy or Magnus without make-up, apocalypse be damned. 

Still, Simon and Clary's looks have less to do with actual _looks_ and more to do with the grief that hangs over them--sunken circles under their eyes, sagging shoulders, exhaustion and shared pain that's more than just skin-deep. They're sad, deeply so, and Simon trying to get Clary to go through the motions is like the blind leading the blind. 

"Hey," Jace says, crouching down in front of them, bracing his arms on his knees, hands loosely threaded together in front of him. 

Simon and Clary both look up a moment later, reaction time delayed like they're both living in the same muted bubble. They blink at him. 

"Jace," Clary murmurs. 

"Give me that." Jace reaches out to take the peanut butter sandwich, splitting the stale bread in half and giving one piece to each of them. "Eat it." 

"No, Clary needs to--" 

"I'm not actually hungry, but--" 

_"Eat it."_

They shut up at his forceful words, both of their mouths snapping shut in unison. Clary looks over at Simon, seemingly at a loss, and Simon slowly takes a bite of his half of the sandwich like he's showing her what to do. After a moment, she copies him. 

Jace stays crouched in front of them, silently watching them eat their half of the sandwich. It makes sense in his head that they do it this way. They're best friends, have been forever, and they're already sharing their grief over Jocelyn, so they may as well share their food. If they can't eat it all, this seems like a good compromise, and it definitely makes Jace feel better about their well-being. 

Sometimes, Jace finds himself looking at them, and he wonders how the fuck they're still alive. That thought never fails to scare the shit out of him. 

"Thanks," Simon mumbles after he finishes his half, gazing down at his tangled fingers. 

Clary clears her throat. "Yeah, it was--it was good."

"No, it wasn't." Jace snorts and stands up, heaving a sigh. "It's never good. But it's necessary. So, next time, don't try and skip any meals, okay?" 

When they both nod, properly chastised, Jace turns around to walk away, only to come to a halt when cool fingers reach out to catch his hand, making him flinch. By the time he turns around, Simon is jerking his hand back like he's been burned, cheeks flooding with color. Jace very firmly ignores the stupid and pointless flutter that takes place inside his chest, not acknowledging how his fingers twitch at the echo of someone touching him in an intimate way. It's been a long time since anyone has done that. 

"Sorry, it's just… Are we going out tonight?" Simon asks quietly, cutting a look around the room as he lowers his voice. 

Jace nods, then casts his gaze to Clary. "Some of us. Clary's staying here with Jonathan and Izzy. It was originally just going to be me and Alec, but if you're feeling up to it, you can come with us." 

"What? No, I can _help,"_ Clary hisses, leaning forward with a frown. "That's not fair, I want to--" 

"Clary, just--just take a few more days, okay?" Jace asks wearily, taking a deep breath as he reaches up to rub at his eyebrow. "You need time." 

"I'm _fine,"_ Clary insists fiercely. 

Jace nods. "I'm sure you are, but you're still not coming. Besides, it's just going to be a routine run. We'll be better off with less people." 

"So why does _Simon_ get to go?" 

"Hey!" 

Clary rolls her eyes. "What, I'm just--" 

"Because, even if he _is_ an anxiety-ridden spaz, he's damn good with a bat." Jace's lips twitch when Simon beams smugly at Clary. "Plus, an extra pair of hands can't hurt, and Simon's a great pack mule." 

Simon's smile drops. "Hang on, I'm not--" 

"Meet us at the entrance after the lights go out," Jace interrupts, cutting off his protests, then he turns and walks away before anyone can say anything else. 

* * *

Jace watches Alec take the list of whatever can be useful to the infirmary from Magnus, their fingers brushing. Alec stutters out a quick goodbye and hurries towards Jace, red blooming in his cheeks. He seems to be doing his best to ignore it, head held high, shoulders pushed back as he marches forward like everyone with eyes can't tell he has a massive crush on Magnus, probably _including_ Magnus. 

"Still not doing anything about that?" Jace asks casually, tossing Magnus a smile and wave as he heads away, a skip in his step. 

Alec shoots him a flat look. "It's the end of the world, Jace, what do you think?" 

Jace huffs a small laugh and shakes his head, amused by his adopted brother's dry response, only for the humor to drain away a moment later. There's nothing really funny about it, not in the grand scheme of things. It _is_ the end of the world, which insinuates that their end waits around any corner, so the idea of doing anything about _anything_ seems kind of moot and, in all honesty, heartbreak waiting to happen.

Magnus came into the picture about a year after the world went to shit and zombies started having their way with everyone. They'd picked him up with a few others, some being Caterina and a young girl named Madzie that everyone still to this day adores. He's a perplexing man, anomalous without being over the top, bizarre and quirky in a way that makes him interesting rather than off-putting. There's a depth of humanity to him, an undercurrent of kindness, but he's also very closed off to most people, unwilling to make connections. Obviously, he'd bend that little rule for _Alec,_ except that Alec has been digging his heels in since day one when he met Magnus and blustered through his greeting.

They'd killed a zombie together in an alleyway, never having met before, working surprisingly well together. Alec had shot it with an arrow to pin it to the wall, and Magnus had gracefully shoved his broken lance right through the corpse's face. That, as they say, was just the beginning. 

They've been dancing around each other ever since, almost three years now, and most days...it's just funny. Watching Alec stutter like he doesn't know how to be a functional human being in Magnus' presence, watching Magnus tease Alec a little _too_ much because he rarely gets to laugh otherwise. But really, deep down, it's not funny at all; it's sad, actually, because in some other world, they'd have reached out to grab happiness with each other without having this forced restraint on them. 

Jace sighs and fixes his gaze down to his boots, the brief moment of joy gone in an instant. They stay silent, waiting at the entrance, their clothes rustling every time they shift in place. 

Simon finally, _thankfully,_ shows up not too long after. He's panting as he comes to a flailing stop beside them, his empty duffles slung over his shoulder and his bat swinging from his hand. 

"Sorry," he says, "I got stopped by Luke." 

Jace raises his eyebrows. "And?" 

"I'm ninety-five percent sure he's as upset as he always is about what we're doing," Simon admits sheepishly. "But I also think that he knows it's best to just...let us do it."

"Alright," Alec mutters with a sigh, frowning as he pushes at the thick grate in front of him, "let's go before he changes his mind. Or worse, before he tells my mom and she comes down to tear us a new one for going on another raid so soon." 

Silently, they all slip through the thick gate at the entrance of the sewer tunnel, shutting it with a heavy clang that bounces off the stone walls. Their footsteps echo off the cobblestone, treads sloshing in the puddles of shitty water. This place is rancid, the stench heavy and overwhelming, and it doesn't matter how many times they've been down here, there's no adjusting to the smell. 

Simon gags, Alec coughs into his sleeve, and Jace's eyes begin to burn as they walk farther and farther in. It's not exactly the most glamorous route in and out of the Institute, but it _is_ the safest. 

They have to climb out at their usual exit, levering themselves up a rusting ladder and slipping silently out into the cool night. Simon's not allowed to place the sewer lid back in place in case he drops it, which is a tried and true mistake he's made before. Jace sticks his fingers through the small openings and gingerly hefts the lid back into place, breathing quietly as he focuses, trusting Alec and Simon to watch for any sight of zombies. 

After, he stands and nods at them, waiting for a long moment to listen for any sounds of shuffling or groaning. It's silent, but not eerily so, and the only sounds of the undead are in the distance. 

The thing about being in a major city in the middle of the Zombie apocalypse is that it's not exactly easy to navigate. There are over two million people in Brooklyn alone, and ninety-nine percent of them are now dead or walking corpses, while the remaining twenty thousand or so are either surviving or had escaped out of the state. That means most of _everywhere_ is crawling with zombies, and getting around isn't very simple. 

The answer to this, however, is the rooftops. Not a lot of zombies up there, and thankfully, most buildings are close enough to jump across. In the last four years, they've built makeshift bridges across the gaps to run across, well out of the way of the squirming undead beneath them that crawl around like a mess of ants escaping an anthill. Most--if not all--buildings can be accessed from the roof, so getting into them is never really the hard part. 

They've been mapping out the city by the rooftops, clearing out buildings, expanding the perimeter of the places they can raid or hide in if the need arises. Tonight, they have a pharmacy to break into. 

Simon follows them up the side of the apartment complex that they always climb up, going up the outside ladders and railings of the fire escape that winds up the building. It takes a certain amount of strength and flexibility to get up onto the roof, which Alec and Jace have in spades, thankfully. Everyone trains, pushing themselves to be survivors in any situation that may arise--running, sparring, stretching, all for the simple use of making it out safe and sound when zombies get a little too close. Simon, however, is pretty much a disaster and only often makes it out by the skin of his teeth, proven by how he flops up onto the roof gracelessly and with a lot less finesse than his companions, grunting as he pushes himself up. 

As Alec picks up the ladder that they have to haul with them, Simon clears his throat and brushes the gravel and dirt from his palms. He stares at Jace expectantly, his smile patient. 

"Ready to do this?" he asks. 

Jace sets his shoulders. "Always am." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts? I love seeing your comments, so please do leave them!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, do y'all remember 2 Wednesday's ago when I said I'd be posting every week, just once a week, on Wednesday? Yeahhhh, about that. See, that was then, and this is now.
> 
> I've completed the fic entirely, meaning I feel a lot more comfortable posting regularly every few days. So, y'all will be seeing me update more often. 
> 
> Also, I have a moodboard for every chapter because I'm extra. Every update, I will be posting a moodboard and an excerpt on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface 
> 
> Don't hesitate to go give them some love, and keep in mind that a lot--but not all--have clues in them about certain things 👀 This chapter's moodboard is a character moodboard for Jace. 
> 
> Without further ado, 
> 
> Enjoy :D

The pharmacy isn't exactly a goldmine. 

The first things to go in the case of the end of the world are usually food, medicine, and weapons. People who are smart, who are prepared to survive in any way necessary, they started raiding before most of everyone had been taken by the disease. And after, other survivors had come to pick through the remains. This means they often only get the barebones of things to survive with. 

Even still, some of the seemingly useless things they come across can be helpful. No one cares about headaches among the apocalypse, so Ibuprofen isn't often the first medicine to go. Usually, it's prescription drugs that are taken first, the ones people can't live without--insulin, inhalers, epinephrine. Things like that, things people could and do die without. 

But Magnus and Caterina can do a lot with simple things like flu medicine and things to help the common cold. Jace has seen Caterina sow up a wound with dental floss, and he's watched Magnus clear up a rash with Pepto Bismol and potato peels. Their methods aren't always conventional, but they tend to work, and everyone's just thankful for it. 

"I'm going to sweep the back," Alec says softly, jerking his chin towards the area in question, past the swinging doors. 

Jace strains his ears, listening for any sounds of the undead within the building. Generally, most of the zombies are out on the roads, having escaped the buildings to spread the disease to the people running through the streets in panic. Even still, some can remain, and they always have to be careful. 

Alec's possibly the best at sweeping through places and picking off the stray zombies. He's particularly skilled in staying silent as he sneaks through rooms, standing far off to shoot his arrows through whatever unsuspecting zombie hasn't noticed him yet. In situations like this, it's best to leave him to his own devices and trust that he can handle himself. 

Everything within Jace protests it, just like it always does, but he still lets Alec go with a nod. 

"Here, help me with this stuff," Simon whispers, waving Jace over to the shelf of trinkets that hasn't been fully raided yet. 

Jace forces himself not to worry about his best friend, focusing instead on holding open the duffel bag while Simon carefully picks what things they need to take with them. He keeps his ears perked, eyes sweeping through the omnipresent darkness, on edge as the shadows around them seem to take shape. 

"He'll be fine, you know. He always is." 

"Shut up, Simon," Jace murmurs, scanning the street outside to watch the decaying wave of bodies outside shift and stumble around aimlessly. 

Simon clears his throat. "Thank you for earlier. For making me and Clary eat, I mean." 

"Don't mention it," Jace says. 

"I'm serious." Simon puts the snowglobe back on the shelf and reaches out to touch Jace's wrist lightly, cool fingers ever so slightly brushing against his warm skin. "This thing with Jocelyn is--" 

"Just because she died doesn't mean we need to talk _,_ Simon," Jace hisses, jerking his hand back, nostrils flaring as he forces himself to watch Simon flinch, to acknowledge that it's his fault that pain flashes across Simon's face. "Stop talking to me." 

"You know, you talk a big game," Simon mutters through clenched teeth, "but you're just as much of a mess as all of us. Maybe we're not _best_ friends, but we care about each other. _Don't_ deny it." 

"Of _course_ I care," Jace whispers harshly, lips twisting bitterly. "We have to, these days. That doesn't mean I want to _bond_ with you." 

Simon scoffs. "You don't want to bond with _anyone."_

"Can you blame me?" Jace mutters sarcastically. 

"We're all we've got, Jace. Me, you, Clary, Izzy, Jonathan, Magnus, Alec, Maryse and Luke. We've been together _every_ step of the way," Simon spits furiously, harshly shoving things in the duffel and glaring at Jace. "And now, _now,_ Jocelyn is--she's _gone._ So, why don't you--for one fucking second--drop all those guards you have up and just _feel?"_

"Simon, shut up." 

"No, I don't think I will. I think--" 

Jace reaches up to shove his hand over Simon's mouth, fingers digging into his cheek to swivel his head at the bumbling zombie that comes ambling in through the front shattered window. He can feel Simon's sharp inhale against his palm, and they share a brief calculating look. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, Jace passes Simon the duffel and motions with his hand for Simon to crouch down. He does so carefully, not jostling the things in the duffel, his eyes wide and his breath held. Jace takes out his dagger and nods at Simon in reassurance, his heart racing wildly in his chest. 

It's a terrifying process, even after all these years. Dispatching a zombie when a horde is just outside the building requires a level of care that most people wouldn't consider. Jace has to slink behind the zombie without alerting it, stand up swiftly and bury his dagger into the skull, then catch the rotting body before it hits the ground with a too loud thump. He's done it so many times that it's motion memory now, but he's always aware that one mistake could cost him his life and the lives of those he cares about. 

He has to lay the zombie down gingerly, grimacing as he yanks his dagger out of the skull with a grotesque squelch. Wiping his blade, he slowly makes his way back over to Simon, releasing a deep breath. 

"Let's just get what we need and go," Jace murmurs firmly, avoiding Simon's gaze. 

Simon heaves a quiet sigh. "Fine, but I would like to point out that I'm only halting this conversation under duress. We _will_ talk about this later." 

"We won't," Jace mumbles, snatching the other empty duffel from Simon and marching away towards the medicine cabinets. 

"We will," Simon whisper-yells after him. 

Jace ignores him and gets back to work, something smoothing over in his chest when Alec comes back into the room silently, a couple of his arrows covered in black blood. Together, the three of them work in silence and care to gather the supplies they can. 

They do have a limited time, however. The zombies aren't intelligent, nor are they the most limber, but they're scarily good at detecting life. They hear and smell unfortunately well, and after some time, they're able to parse out heat signatures if people linger for too long near them. They can't see very well at night, which is why most raids take place during that time, but none of that matters when most zombies are within a large group that can easily take over unprepared humans. One zombie isn't an issue, even a spread out few aren't, but a close-knit unit of bumbling corpses can ruin everything with ease. 

They know their time is up when not one but two zombies come stumbling into the shop through the front, three more following at a slower pace. 

They each take their duffels and retreat to the ladder that waits underneath the hatch that leads to the roof. By the time they're all up on the roof, Alec reaching down to pull the ladder up with them, four zombies are entering the room they just escaped out of with hisses and groans. They snap the hatch shut and start making their way across the rooftops, moving quick and quiet through the night. They leave the ladder on the rooftop of the apartment complex they always start at, making it back to the sewer entrance with an internal map. 

Simon drops down first, followed by Alec, and Jace goes last, maneuvering the lid back into place as silently as he can. When his boots lightly splash in the murky water, he releases a breath of relief. 

"Magnus will be pleased," Alec murmurs. 

"You're delivering the supplies," Jace tells him, not above putting Alec through the torture of making a fool of himself in front of Magnus. 

Simon snorts. "Yeah, and maybe this time you could try actually stringing a sentence together." 

"I hate you both." Alec reaches out to shove Jace's shoulder. "Especially you, Simon." 

"Yeah, I know," Simon says smugly, like being Alec's least favorite person is a high honor. 

It's not true, they all know that. Everyone, at this point, cares about each other, even the most unlikely pairs. It doesn't really matter what they've been through before all of this, not when they've saved each other's lives and went through loss together. Simon had beat a zombie to a pulp when it made the mistake of nearly biting Alec's arm, and Alec had let Simon cry into his shirt when he went home to find nothing. Before all of this, they'd barely had much of a relationship at all. 

"Here, you go ahead," Jace murmurs, passing his duffel to Alec and getting close enough to shoot him a significant look. "I need to speak with Simon." 

Warily, Simon passes over his duffel and clears his throat while Alec shoulders the bags, looking between them with a frown before walking away. Jace waits until he can barely hear the echo of his boots in the water, then he turns to survey Simon, his jaw clenched. Simon fidgets. 

"Is this a lecture?" Simon asks cautiously. 

Jace sighs. "No," he grits out, "it's an--an apology. I shouldn't have said what I did about Jocelyn back there. It's--it was wrong, and I'm sorry." 

"I know," Simon says, his voice softening as he takes a step closer. "Jace, you can't keep acting like nothing hurts you. It's going to rip you apart." 

"The only thing that can rip me apart is a zombie, Simon. That's what I need to worry about, nothing else," Jace murmurs. 

"Don't lie. You worry about me, about all of us. Your problem is that you don't worry about yourself. It's okay, you know, to--to be upset sometimes." 

"I know that." 

Simon makes a small frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "I know that doing anything more than surviving seems pointless, but Jace, we're still alive. Right now, right here, we're _alive._ And maybe we won't be tomorrow, but for today...we are. So, we shouldn't waste it." 

"I'm not wasting anything," Jace snaps, crossing his arms and hiding a flinch when Simon takes a step closer, getting right in his space to examine his face in the dark. "I'm doing what I can to make sure everyone is alive tomorrow. Why can't that be enough for you? Why do you _always_ demand that I do more, that I--" 

"I _don't."_ Simon grimaces and looks away, his throat working visibly in the moonlight that beams down from the grate above them. "I'm trying to tell you that it's not your responsibility. Our lives aren't in your hands, Jace, and if they end...it doesn't mean you've screwed up. Y-you don't smile these days, and you don't laugh with your siblings, and you don't hug Maryse when she cries about Max anymore. You won't let anyone touch you, and you--you try and keep everyone as close as you can to protect them, all while pushing them away so you won't get hurt if you can't. Jace, you _have_ to stop. It's killing you, man." 

Jace closes his eyes, turning away as he takes a deep breath. After a moment, he shoves down the rioting happening in his chest and exhales, opening his eyes to glare at Simon. 

"It's always you. Just _you._ Everyone else leaves me alone, lets me do what I have to, but _you_ won't stop fucking pestering me." Jace drops his arms to his sides with a dull smack. "Why? What do you _care?_ Don't you remember before, Simon? Back when we were fighting over Clary, back when you couldn't even look at me, back when you _hated_ me? What happened to that? I miss that." 

"No, you don't," Simon says wearily. His smile is small and trembling. "To be honest, Jace, that feels like something from a different life. I never _hated_ you, I was just envious of you. And now… Now, I _do_ care. Because that's what _I_ do--just like you make sure everyone survives, I make sure they _live."_

"And you think I'm not?" 

"I think you've honed yourself into a weapon to fight the zombies, and in the process, you've lost yourself. Just trying to survive the dead can't be all that matters, Jace. There's more than just making it through another day." 

"Yeah?" Jace asks sharply, voice coated with bitterness and poison, hurting on the inside and reflexively doing his best to release it. "Tell that to Jocelyn." 

Simon rears back like he's been slapped, and Jace whirls around, marching away with tight shoulders and a twisting heart. He leaves Simon behind, standing alone in the sewer, hating himself with each step that carries him away from possibly the shittiest apology attempt in history. 

Even still, he doesn't turn around. 

* * *

The roof of the church is a common place to gather--for those who know how to get up there. Jonathan had found it about a month after having settled into the church, and he'd only told their small inner circle, not including the older adults. 

There's something peaceful about being able to escape from the bustling life within the church and maybe forget about the bustling lack of life outside of it. The church roof has a clear sight to the sky, the one that's only visible now due to the lack of pollution that New York would be producing if humans were around to destroy the environment. The stars flicker these days, pretty and bright in the overly dark world without electricity. 

Jace has had a _tremendously_ hard day, so he goes where they all do when things get too rough. He's unsurprised to find others out here already, Izzy and Jonathan sitting on a ratty blanket, lying side-by-side to stare up at the scars. 

"Mind if I join you?" Jace mutters gruffly. 

Izzy tilts her head back to look at him from upside down, smiling, and Jonathan says, "Please." 

He ambles over to settle down beside Izzy, sprawling out flat on his back, staring up at the stars. It's nice and quiet, and for just a moment, Jace can pretend that things aren't always the worst they're ever going to be. He can inhale the fresh air and pretend there's not a scent of decay in the air, he can listen to the rustling of trees and act like he doesn't hear the very distant sound of bones grinding, and he can close his eyes and try to forget the image of Jocelyn convulsing on the floor as she turned. 

It's rare to be on the roof alone, and when some of them go missing, the others generally know this is the place to look for them. That's why Jace isn't surprised when Simon and Clary show up a little bit later, quietly moving to join them. Clary lays down beside Jonathan with a long drawn out sigh, and Simon defiantly flops down beside Jace, making sure to throw a glare at him for good measure. And shortly after that, Magnus and Alec step on the roof before coming to join them without a word. 

"Do you remember when me and Jace had _just_ turned sixteen?" Jonathan asks, sounding amused. "His birthday was on a Friday, and mine was the following Saturday, so we all got together on Sunday and broke into Mom's liquor cabinet."

"Oh god." Clary lets out a small burst of laughter, pushing up on her elbows to peer around at everyone with a broad smile. "We thought Mom was gonna be _furious,_ but we were all so sick and hungover that she figured that was punishment enough." 

Izzy lets out a soft sigh. "She held my hair back while I puked, laughing all the while." 

"Jocelyn was amazing," Simon says with a fond sigh. "I remember when me and you were having our issues 'cause I was in love with you, Clary." 

Clary snorts and shares a look with him. "We didn't talk for, like, a solid two weeks." 

"Mhm." Simon sits up too, and one-by-one everyone copies him. "She came to my show, the only one you ever missed. And--" 

"Hey, _I_ was there," Jonathan interrupts, his lips curling up into a thin smile. 

Jace scoffs. "And you dragged me with you."

"And me," Alec puts in dryly. 

_"Anyway,"_ Simon continues, rolling his eyes, "she showed up to tell me that she enjoyed the show. Then she told me to stop being an idiot before hugging me and saying that I was always family, no matter what. She was kind like that." 

"I remember how she used to braid my hair before bed when I was younger," Clary murmurs, looking down at her hands with a small smile. "I used to let her do it when I started growing up, even though I felt too old. She, uh, still does--did sometimes. Just last week, she sat me down and hummed while she braided my hair. And it always felt so soothing." 

"You know, for all my knowledge of home remedies, she was the one who taught me the best concoction on removing nail polish from the skin," Magnus says conversationally after a long pause. When everyone laughs softly, he chuckles. "She told me she was tired of seeing the black on the skin around my fingernails, said it was a Fray Family Secret. But she...well, she told me anyway, and when I asked why, she just laughed and said it was because I'm family." 

"What about you, Alec?" Clary asks, turning to face him where he's sitting on her right. 

Alec blinks. "Oh. Um, a story about Jocelyn. Right. She--well, on my twenty-first birthday, I remember getting _really_ drunk here with most of all the alcohol you all had gone and got to celebrate it. I was pretty wasted, but I do recall her coming up to me, and I told her that I was officially an adult because I'd reached drinking age. And, you know, she just laughed and said that I--and all of us--would always be a kid in her eyes, kids she'd always keep safe and continue to care for." 

His voice cracks on the end, and it makes Jace frown slightly. Alec's not an emotional person by a long shot, though he's compassionate in the midst of sorrow. But this, the way his eyes fill with tears, how his lips tremble...it's not fitting. Alec obviously cared for Jocelyn, they all did, but the way he's acting now suggests there's more emotion than makes sense. 

"Alec," Magnus says softly, eyebrows furrowing as he reaches out to touch Alec's shoulder. 

"T-that night…" Alec ducks his head, fingers coming up to reach the meat of his other hand between his thumb and pointer finger, digging in hard and twisting as he releases a shuddering breath. "That night, Jocelyn--she saved my life, and I...I think it's my fault she's dead." 

Jace's entire body goes cold. 

"What?" Clary breathes out, staring at Alec with shimmering eyes, her hands trembling in her lap. 

Alec makes a small, guilty sound. He doesn't look up, his shoulders hunching in further as he twists his skin harder. "There was a zombie, and it--it _lunged_ for me. I didn't see it, I had no idea, and Jocelyn just pushed me out of the way. She flung her hand up to protect her face, and I think--I think that's when she got...when she was bitten. I don't know, I didn't see it, I didn't even _check_ on her. I just--god, I just took off and left her to fight, and I...I'm so _sorry."_

"Alec," Izzy whispers, "you didn't--" 

"That's what she _did,_ you know?" Alec carries on in a croak, lifting his head to stare at Jonathan and Clary in open regret and guilt. "She--she saves and she cares for us, and I--I can't figure out if it was me that she took the fall for, but I think it was. And I'm sorry. Clary, Jonathan, I'm--" 

_"Stop,"_ Jonathan says forcefully, leaning forward to yank Alec's hands apart, halting him in twisting his skin raw. "Just--just stop it, okay? You can't blame yourself. She knew the risk, we _all_ know the risks. Maybe she did save you, maybe she got bitten later, it doesn't _matter._ What does is that--that you're right. She cared for all of us, and she would have saved any of us by sacrificing herself; that's just who she _was."_

Alec's lips tremble out another weak _I'm sorry,_ and Magnus reaches out to pull him into a hug like he can't himself. It goes to show how messed up Alec really is about this because he lets Magnus do it. Clary reaches over to gently stroke his limp hands, and Izzy leans her head over on Jonathan's shoulder, and Jace finds himself looking over at Simon. 

"You can cry," Simon breathes out, staring at him with his own glittering eyes. "Jace, it's okay, you can cry. You can."

Jace mutely shakes his head, scared that if he opens his mouth, he _will_ cry. His chest hurts for Alec, for Jocelyn, for this entire moment. He tries to ignore it, determined to shove it down and pack it away, willing himself to be strong. 

Simon releases a soft breath and reaches out, cool fingers circling Jace's wrist loosely, just holding onto it. Jace flinches, but he doesn't yank away, and Simon doesn't let go. On the rooftop, in the sorrowful air, he can allow this, he can take this small bit of comfort and admit that, for right now, he needs it. 

They sit in silence and they mourn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave me a comment; I really do adore them. 
> 
> See you in a couple of days ;)
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams into the void* 
> 
> Yeah, still love this fic. Go check out my moodboard for this chapter--character moodboard for Jonathan. It's on tumblr, the url is: jimonsprettyface 
> 
> Enjoy!

Jace grunts as Jonathan lunges forward, swinging out the large stick they'd collected from outside. He holds his ground, broadening his stance and parrying effortlessly. Jonathan narrows his eyes. 

"Come on," Jace pants, "you know I'm going to win." 

"Not by forfeit," Jonathan grits out, then lunges once more, ignoring it when Jace chuckles. 

They go back and forth, whirling around the near empty room, sparring seriously. They have to be careful to keep it from being playful. Each honed skill is an element of very real survival, and it's important for them to keep from treating this like a joke. A good training session can be what saves their lives in the future. 

Zombies aren't necessarily a formidable opponent, not alone anyway. But when three or four are converging on you all at once, rotted flesh making you gag and burning your eyes, clacking teeth echoing as they snap at you with mindless determination...well, it can be a struggle. Knowing how to fight and knowing when to flee is very important; it can mean the difference between living another day or being bitten. 

The session comes to a close a little bit later, and as always, Jace feels a little bit better afterwards. There's nothing like honing his body while ensuring that those he cares about are still fit enough to survive. He and Jonathan sit side-by-side on the floor, sharing a bottle of room temperature water. 

"Alec's still a little messed up," Jonathan comments quietly, swiping at the sweat at his hairline, damp clinging to the red-ish brown strands. 

Jace grunts. "Yeah, but he'll bounce back. It helps that you and Clary aren't...you know." 

"Angry?" Jonathan prompts. His lips twitch faintly, throat bobbing. "I won't lie to you, Jace. I am, a little. Not--not at him, though. Maybe at her, at Mom. I get so angry sometimes because I don't want her to be gone. It's not fair." 

"No," Jace agrees, "it's not." 

Jonathan hums and turns to look at him curiously, pointy face smoothing out with amusement. "So, what's going on with you and Simon?"

"What do you mean?" 

"You two have been, ya know, bickering a lot." 

"He thinks I'm…" Jace wrinkles his nose and flicks his fingers lazily. "I don't know. He says I'm basically shutting myself down, or something." 

"Oh. He's worried about you." Jonathan nods like that makes any sense at all. "We all are, you know. You've been kind of...distant lately." 

"Real tired of hearing that." 

"Maybe you're hearing it so much because it's true. Ever think of that?" 

Jace snorts. "Fuck off." 

Jonathan raises his hands in surrender, slowly pushing himself to his feet with a groan. He offers his hand to Jace, who takes it and allows himself to be pulled up. They share a small smile, and Jace can admit that it's nice to see Jonathan in a better mood.

"We're going through Mom's things today," Jonathan tells him slowly. "Wanna help?" 

"Do you _want_ me to help?" 

"Yes." 

"Then yes, I'll help," Jace replies immediately. 

Jonathan grins at him, gaunt features relaxing and turning soft. "Great. Clary's already started, so let's go now. The others are helping, too." 

Jace hums and sweeps out a hand, gesturing for Jonathan to lead the way. He follows at a calm pace, nodding at the various other people living within the Institute. Jonathan receives a lot of sympathetic looks that go ignored, and Jace finds himself admiring Jonathan's calm demeanor. 

The end of the world changes people, he knows, often in the ways least expected. Before all of this fell apart, Jonathan hadn't fit so easily into the world. He'd had anger issues, getting into fights all throughout school, often overtaken by mood swings. He hadn't been able to grasp normalcy, something disconnected in his mind in that aspect, to the point that it had been borderline worrisome. 

Yet, when the world went to shit, he'd calmed down immensely, settling into the destruction like it makes complete sense to him. He's always been a little strange, an outcast in most ways except for how perfectly he's always slotted in with his family--he's a wonderful brother to Clary, and he'd adored his mom. He'd sort of fallen in with Clary's friends--Izzy, Simon, Alec, and Jace--and they've long gotten used to his different views of the world. These days, he's mostly well-rounded and liked by people who see normalcy as anything that's not undead. 

Personally, Jace has always liked Jonathan, even before things had gotten so strange that Jonathan doesn't even compare anymore. He understands him mostly, especially about the anger. 

"Oh, hey," Clary greets as they enter Jocelyn's old room, a box sitting in front of her. 

Jace looks around in surprise. For this to be a zombie apocalypse, Jocelyn sure carted around a lot of stuff. Clothes and boxes full of different things are thrown everywhere, and everyone seems to have picked a section of the room to start going through. Clary's handling the photo albums, Magnus is going through the clothes with Izzy's help, Simon has a box he's sorting through, and Alec is divvying up the weapons. Jace shares a look with Jonathan, and then they both move forward silently to pick a box each to start in on. 

It's strange going through a dead person's things. There's something about it, like looking into the person's privacy, but it doesn't matter anymore. It's an insight to Jocelyn's life and personal belongings that they hadn't been privy to. 

Jace's box contains old records of things that don't have much meaning in the world anymore. Documents that no longer matter, files of birth certificates and social security cards, mail from years and years ago. All of it will need to be trashed. He has no idea why she kept it anyway. 

"Oh my god," Simon breathes out, holding up a pink construction paper and showing it to everyone, revealing stick figures drawn in blue. He grins at everyone. "It's Clary's first drawing." 

"Wait, really? Let me see," Clary blurts out, eyes lighting up as she leans over to snatch the paper. 

"What did you draw?" Izzy asks in amusement. 

Clary's face softens. "My family. Me and Jonathan are holding hands, and Mom has a ponytail, and--and that's…" She trails off, swallowing and frowning as she trails a finger down the last stick figure on the paper. On the face, there's a question mark. "I didn't know what our dad looked like, whether he smiled or frowned, so I just…I drew a question mark." 

Jonathan wrinkles his nose. "I can't remember much about him, but I think...I'm pretty sure he smiled a lot. I don't know what he looks like, but it's just a feeling. Mom used to say he was the happiest man she'd ever met." 

"Until he wasn't," Clary mutters bitterly. 

Jace looks away when she rips the paper right down the middle, crumbling the part with her estranged dad into a ball. He doesn't know the extent of the full situation, but neither does Clary or Jonathan. Their dad left when they were just toddlers, leaving his family behind without so much as a word, or that's what Jocelyn told them anyway. 

He focuses back on his box, clearing his throat in the suddenly dead-silent room. There isn't anything to talk about--everyone in this room has daddy-issues, so it's with a polite silent agreement that they all just don't mention it. They're good friends like that. 

There's quiet murmuring as everyone talks about their discoveries, often reminiscing on old times. They've all known each other for years, save for Magnus. Simon, Clary, and Jonathan all literally grew up together from _very_ early childhood. Jace, Izzy, and Alec didn't enter their lives until they were all fourteen and fifteen, all meeting in different ways. Izzy and Simon in band, Jonathan and Alec on the same basketball team, Clary and Jace in art class. 

They've all formed different connections in different ways. Simon and Clary have always been best friends, even through that minor romantic entanglement that had ended almost as quickly as it began. Alec and Clary used to openly dislike each other because she knew he was gay before everyone else, and he'd been repressed in his younger years. Simon had a fleeting crush on Izzy and they'd actually dated for a couple of months, but settled into just being best friends. Jonathan and Alec always bonded over basketball and played really well together, but outside of that, before the end of the world forced them to be, they weren't all that close. Jace and Simon have always had an antagonistic, bickering relationship, teasing each other and sometimes being downright mean, but due to proximity, they've had their...moments. Izzy and Jonathan have been best friends since they were teenagers, almost as intense about it as Alec and Jace and Clary and Simon are. 

They'd ended up all eating lunch together regularly, then became a close group that eventually started hanging out _after_ school. In the beginning, things were seamless and simple. That was way before Simon and Jace started fighting over Clary, before Alec and Jonathan grew to have differing opinions on pretty much everything, before Izzy and Clary had their girl fights. Before the end of the world solidified that they'd be in each other's lives until they died. It's not the same anymore, but in some ways it's better. Simon and Jace don't fight for Clary's attention, Alec and Jonathan get along just fine, and Clary and Izzy haven't fought in years. 

The world may have went to shit, but their bond as a group sure as fuck _thrived._

Jace can't help but feel fondness for how close they all are. Often times, he has himself convinced that he's not all their friends, especially Simon, who he's had the most rocky past with. But really, deep down, he knows that they're all the best friends he's ever going to have, _including_ Simon. Of course, he'd never say this out loud, and he often says the opposite. 

He sifts through the box, flicking through papers without paying much attention, listening to everyone talk and laugh together. Sometimes, even in the midst of darkness, there are light moments. 

And, just as he's thinking this, there's a sharp reminder that things can't stay easy for long. 

His heart stumbles in his chest when a logo on one of the papers catches his eye. Pausing, he draws the paper out, mouth going dry as he stares at the logo. He can feel his skin prickle as all the color drains from his face, and for a moment, he feels a little faint. His grip on the paper is loose, almost dainty, and he's forcing himself to breathe. 

"Um, guys," he calls out weakly, swallowing thickly as he starts skimming the words on the paper. "Does anyone remember the name of the lab? The one that released the virus to begin with?" 

Simon shudders, sitting aside a basketball trophy belonging to Jonathan. "Like I could forget. The Circle, right? The Circle Incorporated. Why?" 

"Because…" Jace takes in a deep breath, slowly looking up from the paper to stare between Clary and Jonathan. "I--I think Jocelyn used to work there." 

Clary blinks rapidly. "What? No, she--she sold her art online. She didn't work anywhere." 

"Yeah," Jonathan agrees with a frown. "I mean, she often went out to take the art to the buyers, but otherwise, she wasn't employed." 

Jace wordlessly holds the paper out to Clary, his fingers shaking as he stares down at the box sitting in his lap. Clary snatches the paper and begins reading with a frown, Jonathan scooting over to read over her shoulder. Mere moments later, their faces have gone slack with shock, and they join Jace in being white as a sheet, pale in the face of disbelief. 

"No," Clary whispers. 

Jonathan slumps back on his haunches, clutching his knees with knobbly fingers. "She--she wouldn't--" 

"What is it?" Simon asks warily. 

Wordlessly, Clary holds the paper out to him. The process is repeated over and over, everyone silently reading the words, each of them stunned as they take in this new piece of information. Izzy audibly gasps as she reads it, the last one to learn what it says. 

"I don't understand," Izzy chokes out, blinking rapidly as she stares at them. "Jocelyn was one of the scientists that--that had a hand in _creating_ the virus?"

"But she wouldn't--" Simon cuts himself off and looks down at his lap. 

Clary releases a deep sigh. "But she did. This is--it's an assessment of her duties. Her badge number is there. She's being _praised_ for her research." 

"Okay," Alec murmurs, lips tipping down, "everyone shift focus. We're searching for anything at all to do with The Circle. Anything at all."

No one protests, frantically beginning to go through Jocelyn's things with more precision. Jace goes over each paper carefully, tossing aside the things that don't pertain to The Circle at all. He finds two things that do, both of them reports that don't really make sense. Without even stopping his search, he holds out the papers to Alec, who takes them with a nod. 

After a beat, Simon breathes out, "Oh my god."

Everyone goes still, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. His hand slowly comes up to cover his mouth as he holds open what appears to be a mother's day card, probably gifted from Clary and Jonathan. 

"What is it?" Jonathan asks warily. 

"It's--it says…" Simon shakes his head and turns the card around to show them the sticky note on the inside of it. "There's a _cure."_

Sure enough, on the sticky note is a hastily drawn logo belonging to The Circle. Beneath it is four words. _Project Angel. Immunity. Cure._ The last one is circled three times. 

"In the lab?" Clary mumbles, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. "Wait, a cure for--for the zombies?" 

"What good would that do?" Magnus asks quietly, eyes distant with endless thoughts. "All the zombies are severely decayed now. Were they to be cured, they'd simply die." 

"Maybe it's a cure for the bite," Simon suggests, staring at the card with wide eyes. "Like in the movies. A way to actually _stop_ the disease from spreading through someone." 

"Immunity," Izzy muses carefully, slowly pacing at the foot of Jocelyn's mattress. "So, there's a way for survivors to become immune to a bite, and a way for them to be cured if they're not? If that's true, if Jocelyn _knew_ that, why wouldn't she tell anyone?" 

"She _worked_ for them." Clary looks mystified, shock slowly turning to anger, tiny hands balling into fists against her thighs. "She--she helped release the virus, and she never said anything. She _lied."_

"No," Jonathan says fiercely. "Mom wouldn't--" 

"But she did, Jonathan!" Clary bursts out, throwing him a wild look of contempt. "The proof is right here, you can't _deny_ it." 

Even still, Jonathan shakes his head in denial. "There must have been some _reason_ that she was involved. Maybe she didn't know. She--she probably didn't tell us because...because she had no idea." 

"There are reports," Alec says apologetically, holding out the two papers Jace had passed him. He averts his eyes as Jonathan snatches them. "She definitely knew what virus was being made, and she had a hand in creating it. I'm sorry." 

"What does Project Angel mean?" Magnus wonders, not seeming to actually be waiting on an answer.

"This doesn't make sense." Jonathan swallows and slowly lowers the papers, staring around at everyone in blatant horror. "Why would she do this? She kept it from us, never even--never said a _word."_

Clary looks up, her jaw tight, eyes blazing with determination. "We have to go there, to the lab. We need to know. _I_ have to know." 

"Clary," Simon says gently. 

"No, she's--she's right," Jonathan agrees weakly, looking towards Alec with a frown. "Even more than just finding out if she's involved, if there's even a _chance_ that there's a cure, or immunity, or _something…_ Alec, we have to go there." 

"Um," Magnus interrupts awkwardly, drawing everyone's attention. He pulls out a small card from the pocket of a random jacket, flashing it towards them. There's a logo for The Circle on the back. "It's just a card with a written address." 

Alec straightens up. "For where?" 

"Hotel Dumort," Magnus murmurs. 

"Okay." Alec takes a deep breath and looks around at everyone, lips tipping down. "Alright, we're going to investigate this, just us. We tell _no one._ Tomorrow night, we head out for Hotel Dumort. Agreed?" 

Silently, Jace nods sharply, and after a short pause, everyone else follows suit. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it goes, here we are again. The story is picking up. Raphael moodboard this time. Go check it out on tumblr, the url is: 
> 
> jimonspretty face

Hotel Dumort is...abandoned. 

Jace stares up at the building in blatant surprise. The entire plot of land it sits on is seemingly untouched and overgrown, the hotel shabby with windows boarded up. There's not even one zombie in a five mile radius around it, and the place is just... _quiet._

"Well," Alec says with a sigh, "we're already here, so we might as well see if there's any supplies inside." 

"Yeah, but how do we _get_ inside?" Simon mutters. 

Magnus hums. "Someone went through a great deal of trouble making this place impenetrable. I'd bet there are survivors here, or were." 

"Spread out," Alec orders calmly. "Take a partner and look for any way underground. We can't be the only people to utilize the sewers." 

Immediately, Magnus sidles up beside Alec with a flirty smile, pretty much taking up all of Alec's attention immediately. Clary is already standing beside Jonathan, and Izzy gravitates towards them, which leaves Jace to sigh when Simon grins at him. They all split off in opposite directions, being careful to watch for any danger as they go. 

"So," Simon says.

"Shut up," Jace tells him immediately. 

Simon grumbles under his breath, before coughing and saying, "Look, I know you're not my biggest fan, and that's _fine,_ but you don't get to be angry with me for caring. I just… I want you to be okay. I want _everyone_ to be okay." 

"Okay is a state of mind." Jace shoots him a flat look, arching an eyebrow. "It's not real. I say I'm okay, therefore I am. And _I_ want everyone to keep breathing, even you." 

"You know, you've decided it's your _job_ to make sure all of us make it through another day," Simon murmurs, walking beside him and sighing heavily, shaking his head. "But _I_ have decided it's my job to make sure we all stay...positive and mostly sane."

Jace snorts, scanning the lot as they walk towards the edge of it. "What are you, our therapist? How's that going for you?" 

"Eh, I'm doing mostly okay, I think. But, you know, Jonathan's a little…" Simon trails off, playfully showing his teeth in a grimace. 

Jace rolls his eyes, but his lips tug up into a small smile, amused despite himself. Simon beams and knocks their shoulders together, which Jace very firmly ignores the familiarity in that action. 

"See, look, you're _smiling."_

"Shut up," Jace mutters, working to get his face under control, stepping off the concrete onto soft grass with Simon. 

"You used to do that all the time." Simon sounds a little wistful, lips curling up. "I mean, we all did, but you especially. God, I _hated_ it. That megawatt smile, or your smug little smirk. And you smiled from your _eyes._ I mean, who even _does_ that? Like you needed some other reason to be perfect." 

"Watch out," Jace says dryly, "you're starting to sound...poetic." 

Simon snorts. "Oh, fuck you. For the longest time, you only smiled at me when you were making me jealous. You were such an asshole." 

"I'm not _still_ an asshole?" 

"Well, obviously, but kind of...sadder, now. Or just withdrawn, distant, colder." 

"I'm fine, Simon." Jace heaves a sigh and turns to look at him, staring into his eyes. "Seriously, I _am_ okay. I know it seems like I'm...I'm being harsh and pulling away from everyone, but I'm just focused."

Simon looks sad. "You should smile more, Jace. I think, as crazy as it sounds, that I miss it." 

"There's not a whole lot to smile about these days." 

"That's _not_ true. I mean, sure, the walking dead is a thing, and people we've picked up along the way have died, but look on the bright side. We've all made it four _years._ All of us, we're still together. And maybe we won't be tomorrow, but for today, we're alive and okay--that is a reason to smile, _the_ reason to smile." 

"Your optimism is grating," Jace murmurs, scanning Simon's features. Slowly, because he doesn't like the tightness around Simon's eyes, he lets his lips curl up into a genuine smile. "But, if it'll make you shut up, I'll try and be...positive." 

Simon beams. "Really?" he asks brightly. 

Jace's smile turns into a smirk. "No." 

With that, he turns away and starts walking again, looking for any sign of an entrance to the sewers. Simon grumbles under his breath and follows him, muttering about asshole blondes with issues. Jace ignores him, and he also valiantly ignores the strange warmth in his chest. 

He's not doing this with Simon, not again. They've fallen into this trap before, especially during the first year of the undead taking over. Simon had not taken well to training and firmly believed that he'd end up killed for it, constantly panicking every time a zombie so much as came within spitting distance. Jace, being the one to help train everyone, had done his best to help Simon get through it. 

Things had been...strange between them. Before this, they weren't exactly on the best of terms, but Simon had truly appreciated Jace's extra help. For a minute there, Jace had actually thought he and Simon were becoming _friends._ Except, no, that's not at all what happened. Somehow, things got _weird_ between them, weird and awkward in a way Jace hadn't understood, and they'd mutually just left each other alone for a while. When things get hard, when one of them gets too far into their own head, they take it upon themselves to help each other until things get weird again, and then they go back to acting like they barely know each other. 

Jace isn't doing it this time. Up until recently, Simon hasn't done a lot of talking to him, nor has he made it a point to try and make sure Jace is doing okay. But they're apparently in this loop of trying to help each other, trying to smooth down each other's broken parts, so here Simon comes, once again, trying to be there for Jace because he thinks it's necessary. And when it helps, because it inevitably will, things will get strange between them again, and frankly, Jace doesn't have the time or energy to deal with it. 

Footsteps clapping against the concrete behind them makes them both whirl around. Simon is actually the fastest out of everyone, but Jonathan is the next in the lineup of speed, so it's no surprise that he was the one who had to round everyone up. 

"Magnus and Alec found the entrance," Jonathan pants, turning right back around and leading them away, obviously winded. 

The entrance turns out not to be the sewer, but an underground entrance behind a large circular hatch. Magnus nods at it. "Pretty sure that will lead us right into the basement of the hotel." 

"Well," Clary mutters, "what are we waiting for?" 

No one can argue with that, so Alec yanks open the hatch and leads the way inside. Jace waits, taking the rear, following in behind Izzy, who smiles at him over her shoulder. After a beat, he forces himself to smile back, and her face softens with delight. 

The tunnel does, in fact, lead into the basement of the hotel, and as their luck would have it, right into a fucking trap. 

Jace is the last one to step out, instantly understanding why the rest of his group has come to a screeching halt and has their hands held up in blatant surrender. As he takes in the number of people with weapons trained on them at the entrance, he sighs heavily and holds his hands up too. They're _severely_ outnumbered. 

"Well," a man says softly, his eyes dark with bruises beneath them, standing out on his pale, unsmiling face, "if you can't tell, you're all _thoroughly_ screwed, so I wouldn't do anything hasty if I were you." 

Alec sighs. "Listen, we're not--" 

"You all went through a great deal of trouble to get in here," the man murmurs, his voice quiet, almost soothing, even as his eyes snap between them in threat. "Why?" 

A girl with corkscrew curls and a scar on her neck shifts restlessly, fingers wrapping tighter around her shotgun. "Why does anyone try to get in here? Come on, let's just--" 

"We're not here to _hurt_ anyone," Izzy snaps, glaring at the group of people all readying their weapons, apparently not above murdering the random people that wander into their refuge. 

The man hums, deft fingers swirling his balisong--or, as most people know it, his butterfly knife--through the air expertly, the quick and effortless movement no less than a treat. "If you're not here to raid our sanctuary, then what are you here _for?_ If you require refuge, I can't help you, not long-term." 

"This is _literally_ a hotel," Simon mutters, and he winces when Clary steps on his foot. 

There's a tense moment where each group sizes each other up, and Jace totally understands. If it's not the zombies posing a threat to survival, it's other humans with no scrap of decency, the ones who steal and murder and blame it all on the end of the world, nevermind the fact that they're just shitty people. Jace and his people have had a run-in with a few of those, and it's never fun, so he _gets it,_ gets why this other group is ready to handle this hiccup. 

The man who must be the leader doesn't exactly look sympathetic or seem to have any reservations about killing people who may pose as a threat. He's young from what Jace can tell, probably around their age, a couple of years younger than Magnus like them. Despite this, and the end of the world, he looks put together, wearing slacks and shiny shoes and a bomber jacket over a pristine white t-shirt. 

Actually, most of these people look like they're dressed really well. The girl from before, who can only be the man's friend or second-in-command by the way she stands directly behind his left shoulder, looks equally fashionable, as if the end of the world can't touch her. But, by the scar on her neck, Jace is guessing that the end of the world had, in fact, touched her and none too gently. 

There's a third man that stands out away from the group, lingering behind the leader's right shoulder. He's taller than them both with blond hair and a machete draped casually over his shoulder, dressed in more leather than Jace wears, covered in tattoos not unlike the ones Jace and his siblings have. 

And then, just as it feels like the tension will finally snap, Magnus blurts out, _"Raphael?"_

The butterfly knife comes to a halt. 

"Raphael," Magnus repeats, sounding baffled but strangely delighted. "It's me, it's--" 

"Magnus," the man--Raphael--says slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Yes, I remember you." 

Alec's head snaps over, frowning. "You _know_ him?" 

Magnus snorts. "Are you kidding? I babysat him!" 

"Monitored," Raphael corrects sharply, eyes narrowing farther. "Magnus was in the apartment across from mine, and when my parents worked on the weekends while Rosa went to practice, he came over to make sure I didn't burn the place down." 

"I was twelve, he was nine, and the last time I saw him, he was...fifteen?" Magnus sounds amused, tilting his head as he regards Raphael curiously. "I went off to college. Tell me, how is your family? Is the lovely Rosa still…" 

Magnus trails off when Raphael's cheek starts jumping from how hard he's gritting his jaw, pain flashing across his face. He doesn't finish his sentence, having already gotten his answer, and he looks down with a soft, regretful, "Oh." 

"And your father?" Raphael asks sharply. 

"Dead," Magnus replies instantly, the word firm and triumphant. 

Raphael nods. "Good." 

This exchange doesn't surprise Jace, nor his group, as they all truly _do_ have daddy issues, and Asmodeus was objectively one of the worst. But Raphael's group looks shocked by the conversation. 

"These are my friends," Magnus says, gesturing to the lineup of people beside him. "My family, really. Clary and Jonathan are siblings, while tall, dark, and handsome here, Alec, has his two siblings there and there, Izzy and Jace. Yes, the blond one is adopted. And that last one is Simon." 

"Maia," Raphael simply says, gesturing to the girl before lazily flicking his hands to the other man. "Sebastian. The others." 

Well, that shows the important people to Raphael fairly easily. Jace shares a look with Alec, uncertain where to go from here. What, are they supposed to just...catch up? Get to know each other? That's not what this is about. They have to get into the hotel and see if there's _anything_ pertaining to The Circle, not hang around and make friends. 

"Listen," Alec says calmly, stepping forward and focusing on Raphael, "we don't want to raid this place or take from you or your people. We're looking for something, that's all." 

"For what?" Raphael asks blandly. 

There's a pause, then Alec clears his throat. "We can't actually tell you that." 

Raphael hums. "Then you may leave and take your secrets with you." 

"Just give us twenty minutes," Clary demands fiercely, taking a step forward and shaking off Simon's hand that tries to hold her back. "Please. Twenty minutes, and then we'll _go."_

"No, I don't think I will," Raphael says, arching an eyebrow when Clary surges forward another step. He begins flicking his knife again. "Little girl, I'm not sure if you understand how negotiation _works._ See, I have something you want, and to get it, you're going to have to give me something _I_ want." 

"Well, I see you haven't grown out of your dramatic stage," Magnus mutters. 

Raphael rolls his eyes. "You have no room to talk. And I'm not being _dramatic,_ I'm being serious." 

"So, what do you want?" Izzy asks carefully, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. 

"Nothing," Raphael replies with a smirk. 

Jace stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around at all the people. Though they're all dressed really nice, everyone seems a little thin and openly exhausted. This place may be good for safety, but it's not very close to places to raid for food. 

"You're hungry," Jace says softly, watching as a few people shift restlessly. 

Raphael swings his butterfly knife shut and regards Jace curiously. "What makes you say that?" 

"You're all dressed really nicely, but that doesn't hide the effects of starvation. I'm guessing everyone here has been living off of the accommodations of the previous residents at this hotel--wearing their clothes, using their rooms, eating the food that was left behind. But it's long since ran out if you've been here for a while, so you all have to go out and _get_ food, which probably isn't often successful since there's plenty of zombies between here and the next place with supplies to pick over. There's no viable soil to plant here, not a garden in sight, and by what you said earlier about not being able to take us in, I'm guessing you can't handle _more_ mouths to feed." 

For a moment, there's just silence, then Simon releases a deep breath and mutters, "Damn." 

"Alright, this is what we'll do," Alec says firmly, glancing around at the people before settling his gaze on Raphael. "My group can trade with yours. We regularly go out to restock, and we're thankfully plentiful in food since we _do_ have gardens. What we lack in is clothes, mattresses, blankets, things like that. If you'll allow us to search your hotel and be open to trading, we'll make sure you and your people don't starve. Do we have a deal?" 

Raphael may be a tad dramatic, but he's obviously not an idiot. He nods. "Very well. But we're not leaving you to your own devices. I'll monitor you and Magnus. Maia, pick two to keep an eye on. Sebastian, you stick with the remaining three." 

"You two on the end," Maia says, gesturing between Jace and Simon carelessly, "follow me. We'll start this _search_ on the top floor." 

Clary, Jonathan, and Izzy share a quick look as Sebastian gestures at them and says, "We'll take the next level down," in a smooth British accent that makes everyone blink at him in surprise. 

"We'll start at the ground floor," Raphael says with a nod to Alec. "Fair?" 

Alec glances at everyone, lips tipping down, then he sighs and nods. "Fair." 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maia Roberts Moodboard this week, fam. Go check it out on my tumblr:
> 
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> Enjoy!

Maia keeps her grip on her shotgun at all times, finger settling over the trigger in threat, and Jace is incredibly wary. There's a no-nonsense expression on her face, a _do-not-fuck-with-me_ air about her that puts him on edge, and by the passive, placid expression on her face as she points them in the direction she wants them to go in, Jace is guessing that she has no qualms about killing. 

As she leads them into the first room on the top floor, Jace mutters, "You look a little trigger happy." 

"It's the apocalypse," Maia replies tersely, swinging her shotgun up pointedly. "I've made the mistake of trusting when I shouldn't, and that didn't end well, so yeah...I guess you could say I am. Make a move in the wrong direction, and you'll see me get _really_ ecstatic." 

Jace and Simon share a look, both silently communicating their hesitation to piss off someone with a shotgun on hand. 

Simon clears his throat. "So, uh, Maia...what's your story? I mean, you know, how'd you meet Raphael and the other one? What's the blond's name again?" 

"Sebastian," Jace mutters. 

"Right, that one." Simon throws Maia a curious look as he moves over to the bedside table that's actually in pretty good condition. "They're your friends?" 

Maia snorts. "Something like it. We were all in the same bar when the world fell apart, we all hid in the same freezer, and we've been together ever since."

"We were all together too when it happened. Well, not Magnus--we picked him up a year later with a few others. But the rest of us were all at the same place. It was Clary's birthday party," Simon explains. 

"What a great gift," Maia mutters, gesturing around with a bitter twist to her lips. 

Jace pokes through the closet, swiping the entire shelf and grimacing at the dust it kicks up. He throws a look over his shoulder. "So, before all of this, none of you knew each other?" 

"No," Maia admits. "Raphael had lived here his whole life, but me and Sebastian weren't from here. I was in New Jersey literally two days before, and then decided to take an impromptu road trip after--well, anyway, I was stuck here when everything went to shit. And Sebastian is from London, if you hadn't guessed. He'd only flown in that morning for some meeting he had to go to the next day. Needless to say, he didn't end up going." 

"Guess it was fate," Simon suggests awkwardly. 

Maia scoffs. "More like bad luck," she says snidely, flicking her gaze between them. "And what about all of you? What, you were all friends?" 

Again, Simon and Jace share a look, this one less cautious and more amused. Jace even manages to crack a smile, which makes Simon's face soften. 

"Well, I grew up with Clary and Jonathan from really early childhood. Clary and Jonathan are Irish twins, with her being older, and I'm just a few months older than her. We met Jace, Izzy, and Alec when we were all fourteen at school and have been friends ever since. Well, some of us weren't exactly _friends,_ but our groups were pretty merged, so." Simon shrugs and flips through an old phonebook with a frown. "And then all _this_ happened, so we all stayed pretty, you know, close and stuff." 

Jace starts digging through the pockets of the clothes hanging in the closet. "Who's the oldest out of you three? I'm guessing Raphael?" 

"He's actually the youngest, but not by much. He and I are the same age, and Sebastian is one year older."

"Ah, same thing with us. Me and Izzy are the same age, Alec's the older brother." 

"What about you?" Maia asks, turning her gaze to Simon. "Everyone else seems to have a sibling in your little group. Where's yours?" 

Jace's fingers clench on the soft sweater he's currently pushing to the side. He looks over his shoulder, frowning when he sees Simon's head duck down as he inhales sharply. 

No one talks about it, about Simon demanding they all go check his home for his mom and sister. They'd gone because they couldn't _not,_ and they'd all come scarily close to dying at one point just to get there and find the place abandoned. Elaine and Rebecca had been nowhere in the vicinity, not alive or walking corpses, so Simon--to this day--has no idea what happened to them or if they're okay. 

No one brings it up because, with the way the world is, chances are that Simon's mom and sister are dead. Jace is dreading the day when they run into them as the undead, knowing _if_ that day comes, Simon will never be the same after. 

"It was just my mom and sister," Simon whispers, clearing his throat as he starts digging through the drawer. "They were at home that day, and when we finally had time to go back for them, they weren't there anymore. Can't tell you where they went because I don't actually know." 

"Oh." Maia's face twists into sympathy and she looks down at her shotgun, awkwardly fiddling with it. Jace knows what she's thinking, what everyone thought when they learned that Elaine and Becky had disappeared. Thankfully, she has some tact and doesn't say it, clearing her throat instead. "So, what are you all actually looking for?" 

"Just another thing we can't tell you," Simon mutters, heaving a sigh. "Jace, you got anything?" 

"Nothing," Jace admits. 

"I could help you look if I actually knew what you were looking _for,"_ Maia offers, raising her eyebrows. 

Simon and Jace share another look before saying in perfect unison, "No, we got it, but thanks." 

* * *

Jace is _tired._ A bone-deep exhaustion that he can't ever seem to shake these days, but that's normal. He's adjusted, as everyone has, but now he's just worn out. 

Turns out, checking the many rooms of the hotel on the top floor is _very_ draining. Jace works with Simon to turn each room upside down, going through every nook and cranny that they can, searching for _anything_ that might explain why Jocelyn had written down the address to this place. In all honesty, they're not sure _what_ they're looking for, but they're hoping they'll know when they see it. 

The top floor doesn't have as many rooms as the rest, so Maia leads them to the second floor to help the others. As they move into the room that everyone is gathered in, Jace is surprised to find Clary tossing Sebastian glares in regular intervals. He's not sure what that's all about, but Jonathan and Izzy don't seem to be angry, so he figures there's no need for him to have a word with Sebastian. 

"What'd you do to the redhead?" Maia asks, shooting Sebastian a flat look. 

Sebastian smiles, flashing white teeth. "You'll need to be more specific. There's two of them." 

Maia jerks her chin at Clary. "The girl. She looks like she wants to stab you." 

"Don't think I won't," Clary mutters, then goes back to flipping through luggage and pretending that she doesn't notice them talking about her. 

"I didn't do anything," Sebastion says with a lazy flick of his fingers. "I merely pointed out her petite stature, and she--" 

"You called me _tiny,"_ Clary snaps, throwing him another metal-melting glare right on time, just like clockwork. 

Sebastian looks delighted by her anger. "Sorry, love, I'm just being honest." 

"Don't call me _that,_ either," Clary growls. 

"Well, now you've gone and done it," Simon says with a small laugh, wincing apologetically when Clary glances at him in betrayal. 

"Wait," Izzy blurts out, sounding alarmed. "I don't--this doesn't make sense." 

"What is it?" Jace asks, immediately alert. 

Izzy looks up with a small frown, her throat bobbing in distress. "I think--I mean, I can't be sure, but I think this is my dad's," she whispers, slowly lifting up a watch that she pulls out from the edge of the mattress. "Why would he be here? _When_ was he--" 

"Max?" Jonathan asks hopefully. 

"No, there's nothing here of his," Izzy murmurs, her eyebrow furrowing. "And--and this must be Dad's luggage and clothes, so that means he was staying here, probably during the divorce. That--that was right before he took Max so Mom could take us to Clary's eighteenth birthday party." 

Jace looks around the room with a frown. "So, he must have never been able to come back here. Maia, Sebastian, are there records in an office somewhere for us to confirm this?" 

Maia and Sebastian share a calculating look, then she sighs and nods. "Yeah, follow me. It's on the ground floor out of the way." 

They all rush out of the room, clambering down the steps with Maia and Sebastian in the lead. Jace's heart is _racing._ What's the coincidence of Robert staying in this specific hotel? But how in the hell does he connect back to The Circle? It's like they have a few pieces to the puzzle, but not enough to make out the whole picture yet. 

Raphael is leading Magnus and Alec down the hall that they all come barreling down, and Alec straightens up immediately. 

"What did you find?" he asks briskly. 

"Not sure yet," Jace replies, "but something." 

"And Alec," Izzy says softly, "it's Dad." 

Alec comes to a screeching halt, his face wiping clean of any emotion. "Max?" he breathes out. 

"We don't think so," Jonathan murmurs, reaching over to squeeze Alec's arm as he passes. "I'm sorry." 

"Come on, it's this way," Maia announces, waving them further down the hall, picking up her pace, apparently uncomfortable with somber moments such as these, which Jace _completely_ understands. 

Keep moving, no time to feel, that's how you survive. Jace knows that, and Maia does too, apparently. 

"We're showing them the old records," Sebastian informs Raphael. "I'm not exactly sure _why,_ but it's supposedly important." 

Raphael sighs. "Well, we might as well." 

A few moments later, they burst into the fairly cramped office that has a thick layer of dust over everything. Maia immediately leads them over to the file cabinets, yanking the first one open and coughing as she sits her shotgun on top, parting with it for the very first time. She pulls out the first file, holding it out to Izzy. 

"We, uh, looked through the file of everyone who was here before the virus broke out. It just seemed like the right thing to do, to know the names of the people we were borrowing from to survive," Maia murmurs, picking her shotgun back up. 

"Was there a Robert Lightwood?" Izzy asks, flipping through the file with a small frown. 

Maia clears her throat. "I can't remember anymore. Maybe? Knowing the names stopped being important after a while." 

There's something about that, about how she words it, that makes something twinge in Jace's chest. It's painful to think about. When survival is the main priority and the horrors of the world has turned into what it is now, there's a detachment to certain things. Like the innocence in being thankful to people who help, even if they're not there to be appreciated. That goes away when the world hardens you, and it feels like losing a scrap of humanity. 

"Wait, Izzy," Clary whispers frantically from where she's peering over Izzy's shoulder. She taps her finger on the paper. "There. He was here. He'd been renting that room since--what? Ever since Maryse kicked him out? Right?" 

Izzy scans the paper with a frown. "Looks like. And he's the only connection to Jocelyn, but I don't know how he's connected to--to...you know." 

"Jocelyn barely interacted with Robert, though," Simon mutters in confusion. "Why would _he_ be the reason she wrote down the address?" 

"Coincidences are rarely _really_ just coincidences," Alec says with a weary sigh. "Whatever we're going to find, we'll find in Dad's room. Did you finish searching through it?" 

Clary shakes her head. "No, not yet. We just started." 

A look passes between everyone, then they're all off like bullets out of a gun. Sebastian, Maia, and Raphael follow in a general daze of confusion, but they don't appear to be staying out of it. Jace doesn't care; he just wants to _understand._

Needless to say, the room gets torn apart. 

Jace works with Clary to go through the rest of the luggage; Simon pairs off with Jonathan and Alec to go through every dresser, drawer, and nightstand in the room; Izzy and Magnus tackle the closet, searching it from top to bottom. Raphael, Maia, and Sebastian silently linger in the doorway, simply watching everyone like they're a little insane. 

"Wait, found something," Jonathan blurts out after a moment, his eyes bulging as he shakes a drawer out of its slot, flipping it over. "There's something taped to the...bottom…" 

His words trail off as everyone glaces over to see the thin file taped on the bottom of the drawer. It's a simple minala folder, but the logo printed on the front is unmistakable. It's the logo for The Circle. 

"Fuck," Izzy chokes out, blinking rapidly as she steps away from the closet. "Did _all_ of the adults in our lives work with The Circle?" 

Alec shoots her a firm look and snatches the folder with a scowl. "It might not be like that. Dad wasn't the best husband, but he wasn't a bad _person._ Maybe he's not involved with…" 

Again, the sentence trails off as he looks in the folder. His face drains of color and his hands shake as slowly reaches up to flip through the papers. The more he reads, the harder he clenches his jaw and the wilder his eyes get. No one moves. No one breathes. 

"He worked with them," Alec mutters in disgust, snapping the file closed and gripping it so tight his knuckles go white. "He--he was involved, just like Jocelyn was." 

"Didn't Mom work with the same company Dad did?" Izzy asks weakly. 

Jace's head snaps up. "No. You can't be suggesting that _Maryse_ was--" 

"Jocelyn was," Simon whispers, anxiously twisting his fingers together. "At this point, _anyone_ could--" 

_"Fuck!"_ Clary suddenly exclaims, yanking the luggage off the edge of the bed and kicking it furiously, shoving Jace off when he tries to stop her. She releases a growl and looks around at them with glittering eyes and a furious set to her mouth. _"Luke._ He fucking worked with my mom when he was off from the precinct. He--he's involved too, he _has_ to be. Mom wouldn't have kept _anything_ from him." 

"Okay, let's just calm down," Magnus says quietly, waving dancing fingers through the air like he's trying to spell them into relaxing. "We need to focus. Alexander, is there anything in the file about Project Angel? Anything expanding on Jocelyn's note?" 

Alec's mouth twists bitterly as he flips the file open once more. "I don't know, I didn't get very far. But alright, this is his report, just like Jocelyn." He skims the paper and his eyebrows furrow. "They weren't working on the same thing. It looks like he was working on something else, but they're connected. Nothing about Project Angel, but... _Jesus._ They--he helped _create_ the--" 

Alec cuts himself off and shoves the file out, his face twisting with disdain and pure anger. Magnus reaches out to grab it, his fingers lightly smoothing over Alec's as he takes it. Silently, he reads the file, his lips progressively ticking down further. Just as Alec had, he makes a small sound of disgust. 

"We need to go," Magnus murmurs. "Clary's right, we have to get to that lab." 

"But first," Izzy grits out, "we're stopping by to see what Luke and Maryse have to say about this." 

Jace straightens up. "Alright, let's go. We'll need to prepare for the trip, stock up, maybe do a couple of raids for supplies on the way back." 

With that, they all push to their feet and turn to the door, only to come to a halt. In truth, Jace had honestly forgotten about their little audience, his mind not really focusing on Maia, Sebastian, and Raphael lingering in the doorway. Now, however, he's reminded very starkly of their presence. 

Raphael is flicking his butterfly knife, eyes dark with threat, lips twisted in open displeasure. Maia has her shotgun pointed directly at them, her finger poised right on the trigger, eyes narrowed. And Sebastian, unlike them, doesn't have his machete poised in threat. Again, he has it leaning casually against the leather of his jacket on his shoulder, but his stance is broad and his eyes are steely with determination. 

"No," Raphael says softly, "after consideration, I don't think any of you are going _anywhere."_

Well, shit. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have far too many favorite characters in this fic. Help me. 
> 
> This week's moodboard is for Sebastian Verlac! Check it out on my tumblr: 
> 
> jimonsprettyface

"So, this is how it's going to go," Raphael tells them calmly, still effortlessly flipping his butterfly knife without even looking, "you're going to tell us what _exactly_ is going on here, or Maia's going to pick someone to play target practice with." 

Maia cocks her gun. 

Jace is...honestly a little disappointed. Surprisingly, he'd actually found himself _liking_ these three--well, mostly Maia, but still. It's rare for him to run into others who are like them, taking their route to survival in their own hands, willing to do the ugly things to make sure their people are safe. Yeah, sure, they're a little rougher around the edges, but so is Jace, these days, and he _gets them._

"Raphael," Magnus starts, only to snap his mouth shut when Maia swings her gun and points it right to his face, making Jace tense up. 

"If the next words out of your mouth aren't an explanation, I'd just stay silent if I were you," Sebastian says, like he's giving out friendly advice, though the gleam in his eyes is anything but kind. 

Alec very deliberately takes a step in front of Magnus, blocking him from the possible oncoming bullet, and Jace's chest tightens in discomfort. 

"Alright," Alec snaps, lip curling up as he glares directly at Maia. "You can put your fucking gun down, you're not shooting _anyone._ I'll explain, but trust me, you're not going to like what you hear."

Raphael catches his butterfly knife and hums, giving Maia a nod that makes her lower her gun. "Why don't you let us be the judge of that? Start talking." 

"Still _so_ dramatic," Magnus says with a roll of his eyes, and Raphael shoots him a faintly amused look like they're not all in a stand-off right now. 

"Basically," Clary says flatly, "my mom died, and we went through her things, which is where we found out that she was working with The Circle and may or may not have been a help in creating the virus. Oh, and apparently there's a cure, maybe? We're not entirely sure, but we found a card with the address to this hotel, so we came to see what we could find. Now, we know that _another_ one of our parents were involved in some way, and there's a good chance that a few others are as well. There, you're caught up, can we go now?" 

Sebastian grins. "Oh, I do _like_ her," he says, throwing a pleased look at Raphael. 

Maia releases a shaky breath. "Wait, there's a cure? For--for the _zombies?_ That doesn't make sense." 

"We don't _think_ so, no," Magnus admits, shrugging slightly. "Curing the zombies wouldn't be very helpful since they accelerate decay. But...perhaps there's a cure for a bite? There was mention of immunity, but we don't have a lot to go off on." 

Raphael jerks his chin at the file in Magnus' hands, looking dead at Alec. "You mentioned that your father was working on something else. What?" 

"Yeah, I'm curious about that myself," Simon pipes up with a nervous laugh, shifting restlessly. 

Alec swallows and looks down, his cheek twitching due to how hard he's gritting his jaw. Magnus reaches out with ringed fingers, lightly dragging his hand down Alec's spine, which seems to do the trick. All the tension bleeds from Alec's frame, and he looks up with a weary sigh. 

"Jocelyn's research seemed to be focused solely on making the virus itself. My dad, on the other hand, was someone who seemed to be focused on making sure the virus _worked._ There's a note in there about using blood samples from subjects who weren't mentally capable of...of consenting to it." 

"Jesus _Christ,"_ Jace hisses, cringing. 

"Scientists," Maia murmurs in disgust. "They don't care what lengths they go to as long as they get _results._ But what makes you think there's a cure?" 

"A note." Jonathan clears his throat when everyone looks over to him. "My mom left a note with only four words: Project Angel. Immunity. Cure. The last was circled three times." 

"So," Alec spits angrily, "you see why we need to go. If there's even a small chance that we can find some way to make sure survivors will _continue_ to survive, we have to do it." 

Maia lets out a sharp laugh. "Are you fucking kidding me? That lab is a crapshoot. I _saw_ it, you know. Zombies are crawling all over it." 

"We have to try," Simon says fiercely. 

Clary tilts her chin up. "If this is the mistake of our parents, then we'll _fix it."_

After a long pause, Raphael lets out a deep sigh and relaxes. "I do see. As loathe as I am to admit it, your intentions are pure. But you're not going to make it. I'm not even sure how you made it _here."_

"A mixture of traveling above ground on the rooftops and below it in the sewers, only going where the zombies are when we _have_ to," Izzy says. 

Jace nods. "The zombies hear _very_ well, but their eyesight is shit at night. If we're quiet and don't linger around them too long, making sure to travel after dark, then we're usually fine." 

"I want to go with you," Sebastian announces without preamble. He looks over at Raphael and Maia, both of which stare at him in astonished disbelief. "I'm serious. I want to help them." 

"We don't need your help," Clary mutters. 

Magnus makes a high-pitched noise. "Ah, biscuit, maybe don't say that. Any help is appreciated." 

"You can't just _leave,_ Sebastian," Maia murmurs, her throat working. "What if-- You'll _die."_

Sebastian throws out a hand carelessly. "And what an honorable way to go, should it happen. They're trying to find a cure. I want to be a part of that." 

"You always were the first to volunteer to go out for supplies," Raphael muses, lips twitching. "You and your adventures, Sebastian." 

"Quite," Sebastian agrees with a broad grin. "That, and the tiny redhead is _very_ beautiful." 

Clary scowls, but Jace can see the light flush spread under fair skin, which only makes her look adorable rather than threatening. Sebastian winks at her, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

"If he goes, I go." Maia straightens up and looks at Raphael seriously. _"We_ go. That's how this works. We stick together. We live and we die _together."_

It's _barely_ noticeable, but the skin around Raphael's eyes do soften. "Normally, I would agree, but we have people to look after." 

"Raphael, he'll _die,"_ Maia repeats, stepping closer to look Raphael right in the eyes. "We have to be there to make sure he doesn't." 

"No," Raphael says softly, _"you_ have to be there. These people, _our_ people, they won't make it without at least one of us. You go, and you both come home when it's done." 

Maia's swallow is audible in the silence, and she looks so pissed off about the tears gathering in her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she sniffs and nods. "Fine," she whispers harshly. _"Fine,_ you--you stay here. This place better be fucking standing when we get back." 

"I assure you," Raphael murmurs, "it will be." 

"You know, we could always leave Meliorn in charge," Sebastian offers casually. He raises his eyebrows at Raphael. "That way, you can come die with us. It'll be fun." 

"Meliorn would burn this place down by day two." Raphael throws Sebastian a flat look. "Besides, dying doesn't suit me." 

"Well, if you're not there to die with us, then I guess we'll just wait to do that," Sebastian says with a smirk, blue eyes warm. 

"Maybe--maybe we should just do this," Izzy declares awkwardly, her lips tipping down. "It's--the risks--" 

"Unless you're going to refuse our help," Maia says firmly, "it's _our_ decision what risks we take." 

"It's going to be dangerous," Clary murmurs, looking between them with wrinkled eyebrows. 

Sebastian smiles at her charmingly. "Precisely the reason I'm interested, love. Now, don't worry about us, we can handle ourselves." 

Raphael hums in agreement. "They really can. I've been waiting for them to die and leave me alone for four years, and it hasn't worked out yet." 

"Here's to hoping," Sebastian says with a laugh, reaching out to clap Raphael on the shoulder. 

Maia subtly leans into Raphael's side, her lips curling up just so. "We can dream." 

Jace watches the moment with a strange sort of sadness. Despite none of them being the warm and fuzzy types, it's clear that they all mean a lot to each other. Raphael obviously won't say that he'll miss them, but he clearly doesn't need to. The bond between them is solid and steady, and it reminds Jace of his own group. He tries to imagine leaving any of them, but he can't. 

"It will be dawn soon," Alec says quietly, his internal clock _never_ wrong. "We need to leave now, or else we'll have to wait until tomorrow night to leave. Chances are, we'll need to camp during the day, but we should reach the Institute by tomorrow night. Pack light, but bring the necessities." 

"Go on," Raphael says, pushing Maia and Sebastian away with a small smile, "listen to the man. And--and be careful, both of you." 

"Always am," Maia tells him with a smirk. 

"Me? Careful?" Sebastian laughs brightly. _"Never."_

* * *

Going from traveling with seven people that have _experience_ doing this sort of thing together, to adding two extras who haven't ever done it with them before is...well, it's actually surprisingly smooth. 

Jace is fully expecting things to go wrong with Maia and Sebastian in the mix, but it's fine. They both shut up and follow orders and are almost always alert. They fall into the group with ease, doing what everyone else does, and they don't argue about any of the decisions that Alec makes. It's _extremely_ relieving because Jace had been fully prepared for it to go to shit in less than a minute flat. 

The thing about going through the city by using rooftops and sewers is that there's _a lot_ of detours. In a regular world, it can take hours to get across the city, but using this method can take all night. Even still, by the time the sun is peeking over the horizon, they've made good progress, and Alec takes them down into the sewers to go as far as they can before it's too light outside to risk coming back up. 

Camping in sewers is something Jace has long since gotten used to. He's able to drown out the shuffling and groaning from above, instinctively knowing to stay quiet, expertly finding a good spot to hunker down that won't stain his clothes with shitty water. Sure, it fucking _reeks,_ and it's not exactly comfortable, but it's safest route. 

Sebastian and Maia don't catch on at first, staring around in surprise when Alec motions for them to stop, and everyone immediately steps off to the dry concrete to find a spot and settle there. 

"We're camping _here?"_ Maia whispers. 

Simon plops down in between Jace and Izzy, looking at her with a smile. "You get used to the smell." 

"Do you, really?" Sebastian asks curiously. 

Alec doesn't even look at him when he says, "No." 

Jace immediately snatches Clary's backpack, pulling it into his lap and sifting through her pencils and art pads, getting to the compartment holding the food. Well, it's more like _snacks,_ really, but nourishment is nourishment these days. 

"Here," Jace mutters, passing out the granola bars, poptarts, fruit cups, and other various foods they have that has a good shelf life. 

Maia and Sebastian both blink in surprise when Jace hands them a pack of crackers and a can of vienna sausage respectively. After a moment, they share a look and shuffle around to find a spot to sit down. 

"You can share if you want," Simon says casually, holding out his fruit snacks in offer to Jace. "We all do. It's kinda like having a meal together." 

Jace grabs two little fruit gummies and lets Simon get a small handful of his peanuts. "If you want something, just ask," he mutters gruffly. 

"Yeah, actually, can I have a vienna sausage?" Clary asks Maia, holding out her poptart hopefully. 

"Uh, yeah, sure," Maia murmurs, clearing her throat as she lets Clary have a sausage. 

Clary shakes the poptart at her. "Take a piece. Seriously, we share, I promise." 

After a beat, Maia does, and her eyes flutter shut as she takes the bite of poptart. Her lips curl up in an unconscious smile, and Sebastian grins in response, genuinely happy to see his friend happy. 

"Here, want some of this?" Jonathan asks, offering his open bag of chips to Sebastian. 

Sebastian looks down at his pack of crackers. "That would be lovely, thank you. Here, have a cracker." 

"I'm actually lactose intolerant, so the cheese will just upset my stomach," Jonathan says with a sheepish smile, eyes dancing with humor. "But still, have a few chips. They're good." 

And so it goes. 

They all talk quietly, swapping food and getting a little bit of everything. Jace doesn't say much, but he watches the others--excluding Alec, who is usually just as quiet as Jace--try to get Maia and Sebastian to loosen up a little more. It's a kind thing to do in an unkind world, and Jace shares a look with Alec, something passing between them. 

Over the course of _'dinner',_ Maia and Sebastian do relax a bit. Simon, who is _perfect_ at making people talk, manages to get them to open up a little, sharing a few facts about themselves, letting everyone get to know them. 

Maia admits to having only one tattoo of a butterfly, and she _really_ blooms when she talks about oceanic animals, telling them that she'd wanted to be Marine Biologist before all of this. It turns out she's a bit of a nerd, just like Simon, and Jace can't help but be amused when they get in a very heated debate--one that's passed back and forth in whispers--about something to do with Star Wars. Occasionally, Clary puts her input in on the subject, but everyone else is just content to watch Maia and Simon discuss. 

Sebastian talks about London, about the beauty of it, and also the ugliness of it, and how they're both somehow dependent on each other. He's almost all of the stereotypes of an englishman, polite and slightly posh, loves football and hates the m25, but he actually does _not_ like tea. Despite all of these things, he likes thrills, loves getting drunk, and often relishes in the approach of trouble. He's also incredibly charming, but it's his almost lazy appreciation of danger that Jace likes. 

Then, of course, the food is gone and they still have all day to wait, meaning they'll have to entertain themselves. Usually, they try and get in a quick nap if they can, and Jace is seriously considering it. He feels like he hasn't slept in _days,_ and upon reflection, he realizes that it's edging towards two now. 

"I'm gonna nap," Jonathan announces, almost like clockwork. He's sitting next to Magnus, so that's who he nods his head towards. "Can I borrow your shoulder? Promise not to drool." 

Magnus hums and waves a hand. "Go for it, my dear. I have a feeling I'll be using Alec's here soon." 

Alec doesn't groan, but Jace knows that he wants to. It's back to being funny again, watching Magnus torture Alec without mercy. Jace knows Alec won't be getting any sleep if Magnus is laying over on him, too focused on his proximity, but it's also normal for everyone to lean on each other to get comfortable, so if Alec refuses, he'll just look like an asshole. 

"You don't mind, do you?" Izzy asks as she leans down to sprawl out, her head hovering over Maia's knee as she blinks at her. "Your leg will make a better pillow, and I haven't slept in almost twenty-four hours, so please say I can." 

Maia looks a little unsure for a moment, but she eventually nods. "Yeah, that's--it's fine." 

Izzy smiles prettily at her and settles down instantly, reaching back to sweep her hair over her shoulder and right into Maia's lap with a small sigh. Jace watches her breathing even out, the tension slowly bleeding out of her frame, and she's asleep only moments later. His lips curl up fondly. 

"What about you?" Sebastian asks Clary curiously. He gestures to his thigh. "If you're tired--" 

"I'm not," Clary interrupts, then rolls her eyes, "but thank you. I slept before we left last night." 

"So, what are you going to do?" 

"Draw, probably." 

Sebastian's eyebrows raise. "You're an artist?" 

"I just doodle," Clary mutters, digging around in her bag to bring out her supplies, shifting her art-pad to sit in the direct path of the sunlight. 

Jace snorts, and Magnus mumbles sleepily from Alec's shoulder to say, "Don't let her fool you. Clary is _exceptionally_ talented." 

"Can I see?" Sebastian asks her, his gaze fixed on the book sitting on her knee. 

Clary pauses and considers him, then her apparent need for validation wins out against her small grudge she has against him for calling her tiny. She flips to the first page and passes it to him, bringing her charcoaled finger to her mouth, sucking on it and immediately grimacing in regret afterwards. 

"It's just...you know, stuff." She shifts awkwardly and fiddles with her pencil. "It's not all pretty." 

It isn't. Jace has seen the drawings before. Some horrific scenes that are no less beautiful just for the content of them. Zombies, crumbling buildings, waves of decay and destruction. She does have pretty things, though--drawings of what the world used to look like, portraits of all her friends and family at least twice, unfinished flowers and hearts and cartoonish animals. What they all have in common is how truly _good_ they are, even if Clary doesn't always seem to think so. 

"This is all extraordinary," Sebastian murmurs, slowly turning the pages, soaking in the drawings with a small smile on his face. 

Clary sucks on her finger again, almost as if she's forgotten the mistake already, and she grimaces at the reminder. "You think so?" 

Sebastian pauses to look up at her, his eyes soft with sincerity. "Truly, I do, love." 

Clary blushes and coughs. "Thanks." 

Jace stops watching them when a solid weight settles over on his shoulder, warm and heavy. He stiffens in a knee-jerk reaction before he forces himself to relax as he blinks over at Simon, who is fast asleep, his head drooping to the side. He's going to get a crick in his neck from the angle, and Jace sighs. 

Carefully, he reaches out to adjust Simon's head, fully planning on shoving him away, but the moment his fingers touch, Simon makes a small sound in his sleep and leans into the contact. 

For a moment, Jace's entire mind goes blank. He panics for a split second, suddenly unsure what the fuck he's supposed to do with _this._ Simon's effectively sitting his head in Jace's palm, and that's not something that should be a big deal, except Jace's heart starts racing _anyway._ There's a trust in the way Simon unconsciously seeks out the touch, almost like he's starved for it even in his sleep, and the intimacy of the action feels like a sledgehammer to Jace's chest, effectively knocking all the air from his lungs. 

Jace swallows thickly and does the only thing he can at this moment. He jerks his hand back like it's been burned, which makes Simon's head jostle and bob as he snaps up. He blinks sleepily at Jace, and that's--that's unfairly fucking adorable. 

"S'okay?" Simon mumbles. He smacks his lips and stares up at Jace with soft confusion. "Was I sleepin'? You don't mind, d'ya?" 

"It's fine," Jace snaps, scowling above Simon's head, clenching his jaw. It's _not_ fine, it's the exact opposite of fine. "Just go back to sleep, Simon." 

"Mmkay," Simon mumbles, eyes already falling shut again as he threads one arm through Jace's, dropping his head on his shoulder and snuggling into his side. 

Fucking _snuggling._

Jace sighs and casts his gaze around in annoyance, looking for any distraction. Sebastian and Clary are quietly talking over her art, apparently on good terms now, and Maia is staring down at the strands of Izzy's hair she's taken to mindlessly playing with. Alec, however, is wide awake with Magnus pressed into his side, face tucked into his throat. He looks right at Jace and very deliberately raises his eyebrows. Jace lifts his free hand and shoots him the middle finger with a glare. 

Needless to say, Jace doesn't get his nap. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a Simon moodboard this time, folks. Go check it out on my tumblr: 
> 
> jimonsprettyface

Jace doesn't really know how this confrontation is supposed to go. He doesn't know if he wants Maryse and Luke to have been involved just for them to have the answers, or whether he doesn't so he can be soothed that they'd been oblivious to Jocelyn and Robert's part in it. Truthfully, as much as he wants to know more about a cure, he doesn't want to face the reality that his adopted mother and another trusted adult figure in their lives might have been involved. 

Clary, on the other hand, seems like she's frothing at the mouth to get her hands on Luke and interrogate him--and possibly smack him while she's at it. 

Alec is equally furious at the thought of Maryse having a role in all of this, but his anger is the quiet simmering kind that no one wants to meet head on. 

Jonathan and Izzy are simply uncomfortable, not sure what to believe, not even really _hoping,_ just unsure how to face this. They're already struggling with Jocelyn and Robert's involvement, so the thought that Luke and Maryse might be in on it just seems to bring them more discomfort. 

Simon's just nervous. 

"You all live _here?"_ Maia mutters as they climb up from the latch and circle the church. 

Izzy hums. "For two years now. Got ourselves a nice little set up, actually. You like?" 

"It looks ready to tip over," Sebastian comments. 

Clary huffs as she stomps up to the door. "After this, it just might. Come on, follow us." 

Luke and Maryse have just recently gotten together about six months ago, so they share a room now. When they're not in the communal areas, that's where they spend their time. Clary heads in that direction, moving so quickly that Maia and Sebastian barely get to take everything in. 

She doesn't even knock, just barrels her way in, leading the others into the room. However, she and everyone else comes to a screeching halt when they take in the sight of Luke perched on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, Maryse sitting beside him with tears in her eyes as she rubs his back. 

"Oh, thank goodness," Maryse breathes out when she sees them, pushing to her feet. She stares right at Clary. "It's Alaric." 

"Alaric?" Clary repeats cautiously. "What's wrong?" 

Luke releases a shuddering breath and looks up, his shoulders taught with grief. "A zombie wandered on the grounds, and--and he went out to take care of it. I don't know what went wrong. It was _simple._ So simple that we all could have done it; we all _have_ done it, including _Alaric._ But he--he got bit, somehow." 

It feels like a stone is dropped into Jace's gut. He swallows and looks down, hands balling into fists. He'd liked Alaric. The man was gruff, but hilarious, and he was also Luke's best friend. 

"Luke," Clary murmurs, all the anger draining out of her at once, "I'm so sorry." 

"He, uh, told me right away. Locked himself in the basement, got to say goodbye." Luke sighs wearily and scrubs a hand over his face. "I took care of him. They're moving his body now." 

"We'll be out there," Simon whispers. 

"Thank you," Luke says, trying for a smile and managing to just look _tired._ "Where have you kids been? We were beginning to worry." 

"And who are the two new people?" Maryse asks, eyes flicking between Maia and Sebastian awkwardly lingering in the back of the group. 

Clary slowly turns around and looks at Alec, raising her eyebrows. They all trade looks, silently communicating. It's not really a decision that needs discussion. Now isn't the time for an interrogation, now is the time to mourn Alaric. 

"Survivors," Magnus says calmly, gesturing to Maia and Sebastian with a tight smile. "They're going to be helping us with something, but we'll explain more on that later. That's Maia, that's Sebastian. Come, let's go part with Alaric." 

Luke sighs heavily and stands, smiling slightly when Clary immediately moves over to give him a hug. He kisses the top of her head and murmurs, "I'm glad you all got back in time. Makes this easier." 

"We're here for you, man," Simon says with faux cheer, giving Luke a weak thumbs up that earns him a fond smile in return. 

"Come on," Luke says, reaching out to sling his free arm around Jonathan's neck as he starts towards the door, his smile warm and his eyes sad, "let's go raise a glass in Alaric's name." 

* * *

They decide to give it a few days, just enough for the full brunt of mourning to pass. Maia and Sebastian don't protest, but they do ask if they need to leave, which gets them scolded for even thinking it. Maia is put in the room with Izzy, while Sebastian has to share a room with Jonathan. Strangely enough, they both fit in really well with everyone. 

Jace is happy to be back home, despite the burning desire to find out more about this possible cure. He desperately wants to ask Maryse and Luke if they're involved, but this is farthest from the right time to do that. He keeps his distance, leaving Alec and Izzy to comfort Maryse while Jonathan and Clary comfort Luke, and Simon handles Maia and Sebastian. Magnus goes back to working with Caterina while everyone waits for the right time. 

Keeping himself scarce is pretty easy. Either he's training with whatever unlucky person wanders into the makeshift gym they have, or he's up on the roof, enjoying the rare chance to be alone, which is where he is now. 

Of course, just as he's really starting to appreciate the silence, Simon comes slipping through the hatch to climb up on the roof. 

"You busy?" he asks cheerfully, smiling widely as he walks over to flop gracelessly down beside Jace. "Figured I'd come keep you company, maybe try my luck at drawing you out of your daily brooding session." 

Jace throws him a flat look. "I don't brood." 

"Eh," Simon says, lilting his voice up and shaking his hand in the air like _so-so,_ "you do, though." 

"What do you want, Simon?" 

"Just wanted to check on you." 

"Still convinced I'm closed off?" Jace mutters. 

Simon bobs his head. "Yep." 

"Well, I'm not." Jace side-eyes Simon with a deep frown, openly irritated. "And I don't need your _help."_

"Maybe, maybe not, but I figured I'd give it to you anyway." Simon grins at him, a fucking ray of sunshine in this dark abyss of a world. "That's what we do, right? Help each other when things get bad. We've always done that, you and I, haven't we?" 

"It's not a _thing,"_ Jace snaps, reflexively leaning away when Simon attempts to bump their shoulders together. He sighs. "Whatever it is, it's not happening this time. We've got other more important shit to focus on right now." 

"That's a few days away," Simon says easily, leaning over even _more_ until their shoulders brush. "Live in the here and now, man. You don't do that enough."

Jace grunts. "Where's Sebastian and Maia?" 

"With Clary and Izzy. Don't worry, I dropped the kids off before I came to bug you." 

"Whoopty-fucking-do." 

Simon laughs brightly and nudges Jace with his elbow. "God, you have _got_ to unclench. What the hell has gotten into you lately?" 

"Stop touching me," Jace mutters, frowning as he smacks Simon's arm away. 

"Or what?" Simon teases, reaching out with his hand, his fingers coming into Jace's peripheral. 

Jace's other hand snaps up to catch his wrist on instinct alone, heart racing wildly in his chest as he stops Simon's fingers from touching his face. The mood abruptly shifts. Simon blinks rapidly, all the playfulness draining from his face, his wrist caught in Jace's grip. Neither of them breathe. 

They stare at each other, Jace's eyes full of a warning, Simon's bright with defiance. It's undoubtedly a stare-down that Jace is pretty sure he's losing. 

He doesn't really want to win, is the thing. 

Full of trepidation, he holds his breath as he loosens his grip, letting Simon's hand go. As soon as the pads of Simon's fingers pass over his cheek, Jace's eyes flutter shut. He can't help it. There's no denying it, this is _nice._ It feels good, feels intimate and close in a way he hasn't allowed himself in a long time. 

"You're touch starved," Jace whispers, not opening his eyes, throat dry as Simon carefully brushes his fingers over Jace's cheek, right under his eye. 

It's not an uncommon occurrence these days. With how terrible things are all the time, people need more comfort, and everyone craves touch to remember that they're alive. It surprises him, just slightly, to know that Simon wants to touch, especially when he's so positive all the time. 

Simon surprises him, however, when he murmurs, "No, Jace, _you're_ touch starved." 

The words shock him enough to make his eyes snap open. Simon is gazing at him sadly, warm brown eyes scanning his features, lips tipped down. 

The truth is, Simon's right, and Jace fucking _knows_ it. He misses contact _so much_ sometimes, misses the days when he'd hug his siblings without a thought, misses the times he'd reach out and maneuver Simon during training, misses how he never thought twice about reaching out to touch anyone. Somewhere between making it his life mission to keep those he cares about alive and coming to the realization that he'll probably fail to do that, touch slowly became foreign as he forced himself to ignore the urge to seek it out. 

He craves it, now, but he's gone so long without accepting it that he doesn't think it would be wise to start allowing it again. Each touch from anyone fills him with such deep _longing_ that he always feels on the cusp of shattering apart, and he refuses to break. He can't fall apart, not when he needs to focus on survival--for himself and his friends. This is why he flinches, because it makes him _ache._

"Stop," Jace croaks, simultaneously hoping that Simon actually listens to him while also desperately wishing he won't. 

Simon _looks_ at him. "Do you really want me to?" he asks softly, his expression patient. 

Jace has no idea what the fuck is happening right now. He and Simon have had certain moments before, just like this, usually in the midst of them being there for each other. 

Simon wordlessly crawling into his bed to sleep next to him, nevermind the fact that Alec was sleeping just a mattress over, those first few nights after going home to find it empty--he'd be gone by morning, and they never talked about it. Jace seeing a zombie that resembled Max too much, having a full-fledged panic attack even though it _wasn't_ Max, unable to breathe anyway as Simon held him and talked him through it--another thing that was never discussed or acknowledged. Things that are not in any way miniscule, especially with their rocky relationship in the past, but they'd treated the moments as trivial, brushing them aside. 

And yeah, that's usually when things get awkward and they sort of mutually leave each other alone, but Jace is sure that's just...coincidence. 

Right here, right now, is a moment, and Jace _knows_ that Simon is just trying to help him. The thing is, it'll work, and then things will be weird between them, and Jace doesn't have the energy to deal with that, not with everything going on. 

"Stop," Jace repeats, _trying_ with all his fucking might to keep the inevitable from happening, but his voice sounds weak even to his own ears. 

Simon frowns at him. "I will, you know I will, if you really want me to. But Jace, it's _okay._ There's nothing wrong with needing to be touched. That's a part of it, you know, of being human and not just some machine. Sometimes we need this, and that's okay. Let me--just _let me."_

"Fuck," Jace rasps, and he breaks. 

Like the floodgates have been opened, Jace sucks in a deep breath and reaches out with desperate fingers to draw Simon into an embrace that's so hard it hurts. He hates himself for it, but he doesn't fight the urge, not when it feels so fucking _good._ Just to be held, like maybe he's being kept together by Simon's hands on him, like maybe he can fall apart for just a little while without risking any lives. 

Simon's fingers on his cheek slide back to press through his hair, gently guiding Jace's face to the crook of his neck, like he thinks Jace might cry and knows best where to hide the tears. His other hand curls around Jace's back, gripping him tight and rubbing small, soothing circles into the tense knots. He doesn't complain or seem uncomfortable with Jace's hands cupping the side of his neck that no face is shoved into and the curve of his hip where he's leaning over, nails digging in to keep him from pulling away. 

It's not a hug; Jace is holding on for dear fucking life. 

"You're so hard on yourself," Simon whispers with a sigh. "Please be more gentle. The world is far too heavy as it is, and you're not responsible for holding it on your shoulders." 

Jace releases a shudder at the sensation of Simon's warm breath skittering over his ear and throat. It makes him want more, even without meaning to. God, it's been _years_ since he's been this close to anyone, and for them to regularly travel through sewers, Simon smells _really_ nice. He's warm and sturdy and so fucking _good_ that Jace feels slightly intoxicated by his proximity. 

This is what he was worried about. Allowing the comfort of this and daring to be greedy enough to want more, aching for some kind of connection, missing the intimacy of sex and desire. There's something so _human_ about it, about craving another, about needing the nakedness of losing himself in someone else. 

But not _just_ someone else. Simon, specifically. Jace can't fathom why _he's_ who his heart is set on at the moment, but _god,_ he wants him so fucking much right now that it's staggering. 

Jace pulls himself away, holding his breath, screwing his eyes shut as he very carefully reins himself in. It's with grandiose effort that he keeps his shit together and very quickly gets his hands off Simon, only opening his eyes when they're no longer touching. Simon smiles at him, his gaze warm. 

"Better?" he asks softly. 

No, not fucking _better._ Worse. Much, _much_ worse. But Jace doesn't know how to explain that without being a dick about it, so it's a relief when the hatch to the roof opens and Magnus' head pops over the side. 

"Me and Alexander are coming up," Magnus tells them casually, not knowing that Jace would probably give him whatever he wanted in thanks for saving his ass from this moment. 

"Yeah," Jace breathes out, "please do."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just *clenches fist* really love this chapter, okay? It's an Alec moodboard this time, y'all. Go check it out on my tumblr: 
> 
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> I hope everyone is enjoying the story, and I love any and all feedback I get. Without further ado...
> 
> Enjoy ;)

Holding up his hand, Jace catches it when Alec tosses their rubber ball across the room, snatching it quickly out of the air. With a small grin, he waits for Alec to nod, and then he launches it back, grin spreading when Alec catches it with ease. 

God, Jace remembers doing this exact same thing when they were just kids. Sharing a room, sitting opposite of each other on their respective beds, throwing this precise ball back and forth over simple conversation or in calm silence. They still do it these days, mostly because it helps pass the time, but also because it's great for honing one's hand-eye coordination--Jace likes to think that these little moments of doing this has improved them more than, say, a person who doesn't do it on the regular. Looking at Simon, that seems likely. 

"You just smiled a little," Alec comments. 

Jace instantly scowls. "No, I didn't." 

"You did, though. Just a twitch of the lips, you definitely did. I'd know. You don't really smile a whole lot these days, _especially_ when you're just thinking about something." 

"Alec, I _really_ didn't." 

"But you _did,"_ Alec insists. "I saw it." 

"I wasn't--" 

"You were. What were you thinking about? No...don't tell me, let me--" 

"Alec," Jace barks sharply, tossing the ball harsh enough to make his adopted brother jerk back and blink when he catches it, "drop it, alright?" 

Alec raises his eyebrows. "Jesus. Fine." 

They fall into tense silence, throwing the ball back and forth almost roughly now, making each other lunge for it. They're both too stubborn to actually _stop_ throwing the ball, and now they're in this loop of trying to launch it harder than each other. In a moment, they'll probably send the ball sailing around the room until one of them has to fetch it. 

Fortunately, Clary comes marching into the room like it's her own, dramatically flopping down on the closest bed to her, which would be Alec's. She drapes herself over his lap with a loud groan, complete with the back of her hand touching her forehead. 

Alec doesn't like proximity from most people that consists of anyone who isn't his immediate family or Magnus, but he'll occasionally make exceptions for the others in their group, but _only_ in serious moments. Since he especially doesn't like being laid over on like furniture, even more so from the opposite sex, and this _obviously_ isn't real distress, he has no qualms about shoving her off his lap and scooting over with a glare in her direction. 

Clary doesn't seem to notice or care, giving yet another over-the-top sigh that's _very_ pointed, looking between them with wide, pitiful eyes. 

"Whatever it is that you want," Jace tells her firmly, arching an eyebrow, "the answer is no." 

Clary frowns. "Who says I want anything? Maybe I just need you and Alec's sensible company. You're probably the only two who understands and sympathizes with my situation."

"What situation?" Alec asks flatly. 

"You know, with _Sebastian,"_ Clary tells them seriously, her face pulling into irritation when they just stare at her blankly. "Oh, come on, you can't tell me you haven't _noticed."_

"Noticed...what?" Jace echoes with a sigh. 

"That's he's, you know, very...handsome. And also very openly into me." Clary sits up straight, scooting back to put herself shoulder-to-shoulder with Alec, looking between them in what appears to be genuine alarm. "It's...flattering, or whatever, but I am _not_ getting involved in that mess." 

"Why not?" Alec asks without an ounce of irony, frowning at her. "He seems competent, at least."

Clary stares at him with a flat expression. "I know you just did _not_ say that. Let me remind you of something. Two words: _Magnus. Bane."_

Alec snaps his mouth shut, pressing his lips into a thin line, and he nods his acquiescence. 

Jace, however, has never learned from his adopted brother's mistakes and mutters, "Okay, well, I don't have the same issue, so _I'll_ say it. Sebastian seems like an overall good guy, if you get past the whole bad-boy demeanor, and I'd bet he's pretty good in bed. Looks like the type." 

"Oh, really?" Clary swivels her head to look at him, her eyebrows raised, a glint of challenge in her bright gaze. "You know who _else_ is an overall good guy, and also good in bed, this I can confirm?" 

"Don't say it," Jace warns her. 

Clary smirks. "Simon." 

Jace sighs. "You said it." 

"Oh, I _knew_ it," Alec hisses in triumph, surging forward to grin at Jace. "You always get like this when you two are being weird again." 

"We don't get _weird,"_ Jace mutters. 

Alec snorts. "Yes, you do. Whenever one of you is going through a hard time, the other swoops in to be a knight in shining armor. And then, when you two get _too_ close, you both back off and pretend the other doesn't exist. It's weird." 

"Yeah," Clary agrees, jerking her thumb towards Alec. "At least with him and Magnus, their weird flirting is consistent and constant." 

"We don't--it's not--" Alec shuts up and glares at her, apparently understanding too well that she might just be a little bit right. He clears his throat. "Don't come in here and start on bullshit. Me and Jace were _just_ fine alone." 

"Meaning, go away," Jace mutters, too annoyed now with her insinuation that he and Simon have a _thing,_ slightly betrayed that Alec thinks so too. There's no thing, they're just...projecting. "Take your problems about Sebastian with you. He's a good guy, so far, and very easy on the eyes. Could do worse, these days." 

Clary frowns at him. "I'm not trying to _do_ anything."

"Why not?" Jace challenges, arching an eyebrow. 

"Same reason Alec won't try anything with Magnus." 

Alec huffs. "Hey, that's not--" 

"And we've all agreed multiple times before that his reasoning is pointless," Jace cuts him off, staring right at Clary. "Also stupid, that too. As long as you two aren't, you know, fucking three feet from a zombie, then you might as well have fun. Shit, someone should get to, especially since Alec won't." 

"He's going back home after all of this," Clary says firmly, setting her shoulders. "If he lives. And he's also...irritating, and distracting, and--" 

Jace grins at her. "My, you _do_ have a type, don't you?" 

"Blond, attractive, self-confident." Alec ticks off on his fingers, smirking. "Yeah, seems to be her recipe for disaster. Don't know what that lapse in judgement with Simon was, though. Outlier, maybe? Trying something new? Not wanting to hurt his feelings?" 

"Oh, shut up," Clary mumbles, rolling her eyes and looking between them with a scowl. "Are we _ever_ going to let that go? I dated Jace, then Simon, then Jace again, then dumped 'em both, _years ago._ Move on already. I was, like, eighteen." 

"Actually, Simon dumped you," Jace corrects. 

Clary flaps a hand. "It was a _mutual_ agreement to just be friends. Besides, my past with _you_ doesn't mean Sebastian is automatically my type. Also, guys, it's the end of the fucking world; love lives are literally the least important thing going on right now." 

That, at least, is something Jace agrees with. He snorts and catches the ball when Alec tosses it to him, dipping his head in acknowledgement. 

"Amen to that," Alec mutters. 

Jace hums. "You're tellin' us." 

"It's kinda sad, though, isn't it?" Clary holds up her hand and catches the ball when Jace tosses it to her. She frowns at it before launching it back. "It's all so… Everything just sucks, all the time. I miss--" 

She cuts herself off, firmly shaking her head like she's telling herself not to focus on that. Jace gets it. So does Alec. Everyone understands, all of them in the same boat. People don't fall in love during the end of the world, not really--they either walk into it with someone to call their own already, someone to inevitably lose, or they're alone, avoiding love like the plague. It is that, though, a plague. Falling in love with someone when it's almost a sure thing that it'll in end in tragedy can only be pure insanity. 

No one dares to choose that. It happens sometimes, like with Alec and Magnus, even without meaning to. But Alec has a strong sense of self-preservation and knows what he can and cannot handle--having Magnus and losing him isn't something he's capable of. Not many people are. 

It is sad, in a way, and it _does_ suck. Jace mourns for a different life sometimes, another world where things are different. One where Alec and Magnus get to be happy, where Clary would be happy to have met Sebastian, where Jace might have someone, anyone, maybe even--well. But that's not their lives, and it doesn't do to dwell on that, so he rarely does. 

"We should talk to Luke and Mom today," Alec murmurs, clearing his throat as he catches the ball that Jace throws to him. "We need to get to that lab sooner or later, plus if they know _anything…"_

"What are we supposed to do with that?" Clary's lips twist bitterly as Alec passes her the ball. "What do we do if--if they're the reason the world's like this? Or even just a small part of the reason." 

Alec sighs, suddenly looking so weary that it seems like a stray wind could knock him over. "I don't know," he admits softly. 

Jace knows how much that bothers him, to say he doesn't know. Alec usually always has the answers, the plans, the ideas. He gives the orders, leads the way, makes the rules. And he should because he's good at it, extremely so, but the saying _heavy is the head that wears the crown_ isn't an exception here. Alec is the one in charge, the one who calls the shots, and he has been for a long time, but it weighs on him when he doesn't know what to do. 

Everyone in the group has a role, they all do. If Simon's the one who ensures they _live_ outside of just surviving, and Jace is the one who makes sure that they all get to see tomorrow, then Alec is the one who leads them through the end of the world. 

"There's nothing we can do until we know what _they_ know," Jace says firmly, tossing the ball back to Clary immediately after she throws it to him. 

Clary's eyes flash with determination when she grabs it from the air. Instead of passing it to Alec, she pushes to her feet and looks between them with her eyebrows raised. "Well, now's a good time as any," she says, dropping the ball to the mattress. "Let's go find out."

Jace and Alec exchange a look as she marches out of the room, then they both scramble to follow her, already wearing exasperated expressions as they do. 

* * *

It takes a few moments to gather the others, locating them all in different places around the institute. Maia and Simon in the kitchen, helping prepare food for the small community here. Magnus showing Sebastian around the infirmary, explaining about the solutions they've come up with for certain ailments. Izzy and Jonathan hanging out on the roof, quietly murmuring to each other. 

But, once they're all regrouped, it's a silent march to find Maryse and Luke. They do, after some thorough searching, and they can't possibly have the worst timing. Luke and Maryse are at Alaric's gravesite, leaning on each other in silence. Again, they all hesitate as they approach, but the older two at the mound of dirt hear them and turn with warm smiles, apparently happy to see them all. 

"It's good to see you all hanging around for a little while," Luke murmurs, pulling Maryse away to approach the cluster of the younger group, seemingly oblivious to the tension. "We're so used to you all running off every few days. This is a nice change of pace, does our poor hearts some good." 

No one replies. 

The silence stretches to uncomfortable lengths, and all at once, Maryse and Luke seem to realize that no one is smiling, that they're all silent and stiff, that something is very clearly _wrong._

Jace's heart squeezes when Maryse does a quick glance with her eyes, flicking her gaze over them all to make sure they're all there, her bleak outlook--the one this world has forced upon them all--instantly making her think one of them is dead. It's almost horrifying how much relief fills her gaze when she takes them all in.

"What's wrong?" she asks warily, her hand coming up to lightly touch her throat, like she's preparing for the next thing to happen, like she thinks it's detrimental enough to go for the jugular. 

"Mom," Alec says carefully, and now, his voice is tight with anger, "you used to work with Dad, didn't you? Before all of this?" 

Maryse blinks, eyebrows wrinkling in faint confusion as she shares a look with Luke. "Yes, but you already knew that. We met there when we--" 

"You said you worked at some--some pharmaceutical company," Jace murmurs, his tone cautious, arms wrapped tight around himself. 

"Well, yes," Maryse says slowly. She pauses, looking between them, shifting uncomfortably. "It was--" 

"You're _lying,"_ Alec snaps, surging a step forward to glare at Maryse, who blinks rapidly in surprise, eyebrows raising. 

_"Excuse me?"_ Maryse blurts out in astonishment, a small laugh of disbelief slipping out, but there's something else there too, something that makes Jace's heart drop in his chest. 

Nerves. Fear. Desperation. 

Izzy heaves a sigh. "Dad worked at the lab, with The Circle. And--and you worked with him, didn't you?" 

There's a resounding silence, and Jace feels like he's going to throw up. Maryse's shoulders droop at the same time that Luke's tense up, and there's no confusion on their faces anymore. They know. It's true, and this isn't a joke, and they're involved.

"I don't…" Maryse trails off, lips pressing into a thin line as she straightens up. "This isn't a discussion I'm going to have with _any_ of you. I can't even begin to understand how you know what--" 

"And you?" Clary cuts her off sharply, almost rudely, her gaze pinned on Luke. "You knew about Mom working there, didn't you? Luke, you _knew._ And, worst of all, you helped her in your free time, right? All those trips to drop off art to buyers, some _hours_ away, and you'd both be gone all night. Every weekend, just like clockwork." 

"Clary," Luke says softly, expression pained. 

Jonathan releases a shuddering breath, tilting his chin up, nostrils flaring. "This--this _virus,_ you had a hand in creating it. All of you." 

"It's not what you think," Luke whispers, ignoring it when Maryse shoots him a sharp look. "You have no idea what this means, what we were trying to--" 

"Lucian," Maryse hisses, reaching out to grab his arm, staring up at him with wide eyes. 

Luke just shrugs and sighs wearily, gesturing to them with a small frown. "They already know, somehow. We knew this day would come, Maryse. We knew they would find out." 

"What is there to understand?" Magnus asks coolly, his tone neutral and nearly bland, but when Jace glances at him, there's anger burning in his eyes. His lips twist bitterly. "The Circle released this virus, ended the world, and you worked in the lab, helping them do it. People have _died,_ countless people. Madzie lost both her parents, I lost Ragnor, I--" 

He cuts himself off, flinching, some of his anger falling away after bringing up his dear friend. They never had the pleasure of meeting Ragnor; he'd already been dead by the time they met Magnus. 

Magnus rarely, if ever, brings him up. 

"It's not what you think," Luke repeats, his eyes full of emotion when he swallows. 

Even Simon doesn't seem to be too forgiving currently, possibly thinking of his own missing family when he grits outs, "Then start _explaining."_

"Jocelyn and I, with one other, helped found The Circle and start up the lab." Luke averts his gaze, eyes going distant like he's back in the past all of a sudden. "Way before any of you came along. We were all so interested in science, and medicine, and we just wanted to make a _difference._ Others joined us, joined our cause, like Maryse and Robert, even your parents, Jace, before they died." 

Jace swallows thickly and grinds his teeth, looking down to his shoes. He jolts when a hand squeezes the back of his arm through his leather jacket, and when he glances over, he finds that Simon has subtly shifted beside him to reach out. For once, Jace doesn't protest it, doesn't even have the energy to care about it. He just slowly raises his gaze back to Luke, not saying a word. 

"They were lovely, Jace," Maryse tells him gently, expression fond. "As lovely as you. And so smart, _so smart._ They worked so hard before--before the car accident. They--" 

"Stop," Jace says firmly, sucking in a deep breath, one of the gasping types you pull in after you've been kicked right in the chest. He blinks rapidly. "You didn't have to tell me this. You didn't have to tell me that my parents were a part of this, too. Or, you should have told me before now, all of us." 

"In the beginning, way back before any of you were even thought about, we truly _were_ just trying to make advancements in medicine." Luke coughs and looks down, lips tugging at the corners. "This was before I worked at the precinct, and we all spent so much time at the lab, furthering research, working to leave an impression on the world." 

"Great job," Jonathan says flatly, swinging out a shaking hand, "you managed that just fine." 

"Again, it wasn't _like_ that, not back then," Luke says in frustration. "Things didn't take a turn for the worse until after you were all just babies. The other third owner of the company started to--to go off the rails, so to speak. He became obsessed with this strain that he _believed_ would be the next scientific breakthrough. It wasn't good, though, and I saw how it was changing him. I--I should have stayed, or tried harder, or--" 

"You didn't _know,"_ Maryse interrupts softly, reaching out to take his hand, frowning. "None of us knew how far he'd gotten. It's not your fault." 

Luke swallows and clears his throat. "I became uncomfortable with the work that was going on, so I resigned and left. Something happened, something terrible, and Jocelyn was soon leaving the company as well. But the others, they never knew all the facts, never fully understood what _exactly_ this breakthrough was, or how it could affect everything." 

"The virus?" Alec asks tersely. 

"Not at first," Maryse admits with a frown. "Like Luke said, it was truly just a strain. Man-made, actually, but it wasn't classified as a virus. It didn't _infect._ It was supposed to be a solution." 

"To what?" Izzy asks cautiously. 

Maryse sighs and closes her eyes. "All it was supposed to do was bring people back from being brain dead. People who had aneurysms, or brain trauma, who'd never be more than a vegetable. It was meant to keep the brain active, authentic and strong, and nothing more. We--none of us knew what it would grow into, or what could happen." 

"But you _had_ to know," Simon chokes out, sounding dismayed. "You--you had to have tried it out. There would have been tests, or--or…" 

Maryse shakes her head. "The last remaining owner of the company kept most things quiet within the few employees he trusted. _I_ never knew what I was helping create, I was lied to." 

"And Dad?" Izzy asks, throat bobbing. 

"We're going too fast, too far into the story." Luke grimaces and sighs. "You have to understand. The other owner, he was--he was my best friend. But when he started losing it, I...abandoned him, and so did Jocelyn. He was _genuinely_ going insane. There was nothing we could do." 

"He experimented _relentlessly,"_ Maryse agrees with a wince. "The things he did… It wasn't right." 

Luke swallows thickly. "You were all just kids, barely toddlers, really. He--he formed a breakthrough of his own, or so he thought, and he injected himself. It was only a few days before your parents died, Jace, and it hit us all hard. See, he disappeared, never to be seen again, and then your parents… Well, we think he ended up somewhere and died, having taken most of his work with him. No one knows what he figured out, and we never will, and his insanity sent him to his death. It was--we were all…" 

Luke seems incapable of saying anything else, and Maryse takes over for him. "The company was in disarray. Jocelyn and Luke no longer owned it, and there was no one else to--to spearhead the research. A man, Hodge, the next person in charge took over, continuing the same project that we'd been doing the whole time. And, for years, as you all grew up, that's what most of us worked on. Some others helped release things to keep the funding coming in, enhancement drugs for the United States Military, things like that." 

"But Dad, he kept working on the virus," Izzy mutters, her voice shaking. "Mom, did Dad _know?"_

Maryse blinks _hard,_ releasing a shaky breath. "Honey, it's--it's complicated. I think, to some degree, we all knew that the work and research was just on the side of _wrong._ But it was science, and we just--we wanted to _do it._ Robert knew, but not everything, just more than I did. When I found out the depth of his role in his department, and just _exactly_ what he was doing, I--I left him and The Circle. That's when we got the divorce." 

"But I thought Dad cheated on you?" Alec mutters, lips parting in disbelief. 

"He did." Maryse takes a steady breath, raising her gaze to look at them. "He was mostly so invested in the work because of the woman running his department, the same woman he--he…" 

"Oh, Mom," Izzy says softly. 

"But Mom went back," Clary suddenly mutters, stepping forward to look at Luke in confusion. "Why would she do that? She--she went _back."_

Luke sighs. "I don't know. She took a position back part time, almost out of the blue, and then suddenly asked me for my help to break in on those nights when everyone else went home. I don't know _why,_ but I helped her anyway." 

"So, so, none of you were actually there when the virus broke out?" Simon asks warily. 

"No," Maryse admits, "we weren't. Not even Jocelyn. We had no idea that it was even being tested, not until that day at that birthday party. There was--we couldn't do anything." 

"It was just a big mistake," Luke says seriously, looking at them pleadingly. "Things went wrong, but we had no idea that they would. This virus, we all had a hand in it at some point, but we _never_ knew this is how it would turn out. I swear it." 

There's some relief in that, and despite how infuriating it is that they're involved, Jace feels some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Just then, Simon finally drops his hand from his arm, like he felt him relax slightly. 

"The cure," Alec snaps, apparently still on edge, folding his arms across his chest. "What do you know about it?" 

"What cure?" Maryse asks, blinking in surprise. 

There's a brief pause where everyone looks at each other warily, suddenly coming to the abrupt conclusion that Luke and Maryse have no idea what they're talking about. Meaning that the most important information they'd been hoping for out of this whole confrontation doesn't even exist. 

"Does Project Angel mean anything to you?" Magnus asks, looking between them. 

Maryse and Luke share a quick look, confusion written clear across their faces. In unison, they turn back to answer, "No, why?" 

"Okay, we need to go," Alec says firmly, turning dismissively away from his own mother and Luke, focusing on the others. "There's only one place to look for answers now." 

"Wait, where are you going?" Maryse breathes out, eyes bulging like she has an idea but doesn't actually want to have it confirmed. 

"To fix your fuck up," Clary says blandly, looking between them both with blazing eyes. "Yours, and Mom's, and the whole damn Circle's." 

Luke snaps up straight. "No, absolutely not. You can't go to the lab, none of you. That place is--it's where most of the zombies originated. You'll never make it there, or out, not alive." 

"There's a cure, Luke," Jonathan says firmly, holding his ground when Luke and Maryse simultaneously gape at him. "Mom knew about it, or something about it. She wrote it down. _Project Angel. Immunity. Cure--_ the last circled three times. It's out there somewhere, maybe, and we're going to find it." 

"That's not _nearly_ enough to go on," Maryse chokes out, stunned. "You--you _can't."_

"We _have_ to," Izzy hisses, taking a sharp step forward to glare at her mother. "And you only have yourself to thank for that." 

"We're not letting you do this," Luke says sharply, clenching his jaw. 

Alec huffs a short laugh, bitter and hollow. "You can't actually stop us, just in case you forgot. Unlike the two of you, we actually know how to get around this city without immediately being swarmed and killed by zombies. But follow us, try and stop us, see how far you get." 

"Then let us come with you," Maryse insists, reaching out towards Izzy, her lips curling up when Izzy doesn't jerk away from her hand. "Please let us make this right. We can--we can help." 

"You'll die," Jace declares immediately, knowing it deep down in his bones, eyes sinking closed when multiple people flinch at his words. He releases a slow breath and opens his eyes, staring between Luke and Maryse with a frown. "You're good, both of you, but not good enough to get through this. We're the ones who will be able to make it, if anyone _can._ You're not going, neither of you." 

"Besides," Clary murmurs, "this place needs both of you to run it. To keep things in order. To go out and get supplies in case we haven't made it back yet, or don't make it back at all. The others? They won't survive on their own." 

Maryse stares at Alec with tears in her eyes, reaching out to him with trembling fingers. "Alec, please don't do this. Please don't--" 

"I won't live like this," Alec says firmly, holding his hand out to grasp Maryse's fingers, "not if there's a chance that there is a better life waiting." 

"We'll be fine, Mom," Izzy whispers, though her promise rings hollow, especially since everyone knows that's a vow she can't keep. 

Alec clears his throat. "We have to go. We need to pack and plan." 

"No, no, wait," Maryse says frantically, fingers clawing at her children's arms, yanking them close with a choked-off sob. "Please just--please be safe, please come home, please…" 

Her words trail off into a sob as she clutches at Alec and Izzy, clinging to them hard. They let her, holding her, stroking her hair. Jace watches with a lump in his throat when Luke drags Clary and Jonathan in, arms enveloping them and pressing them tight to his chest. The moment is laden with emotion, parents parting with children, hanging on for dear life for fear of never seeing them again. 

Jace looks over to find Simon watching with tears in his eyes, hands balled into fists. Maia and Sebastian, who have stayed completely silent in the background throughout, are both staring at the ground with frowns on their faces. Magnus gingerly reaches out and touches Simon's shoulder, something sad passing over his face. 

Then, quite abruptly, Maryse and Luke pull away to dole out hugs to everyone, murmuring pleas to come home, to stay alive, to _survive._ Maryse cups Magnus' face, leans in to whisper something in his ear, hugs him tight, and Magnus hugs her back with wide eyes and a bobbing throat. Luke spends a long moment holding Simon, who apparently has lost grip on his tears. Even Maia and Sebastian get hugs, like Luke and Maryse have forgotten that they're not like their kids too, and Maia and Sebastian both look stunned by this, but they accept it graciously. 

In the end, Maryse hugs Jace tight, holding him close, begging him to stay safe, telling him that she loves him. She pulls back to cradle his cheeks, tears brimming in her eyes, and she tugs his face down to kiss his forehead, the touch lingering. Jace closes his eyes, releases a shaky breath, and he lets her. 

Then, as one, they all turn away to walk inside and get ready to go, leaving Maryse and Luke behind, clinging to each other and watching their children walk away, knowing deep down they may never make it back home. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These absolute fools. Oh, how I love them. 
> 
> The moodboard this time is a chapter moodboard! Go check it on out my Tumblr: 
> 
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy! ;)

Alec's plan isn't simple. 

First, they need to get to the main library in the city that holds the blueprints to buildings in the district, including the lab. That way, they can figure out the perfect route to take to get into the lab without a higher risk of being killed. 

Getting to the library isn't going to be a walk in the park. It's right on the edge of the city, right in front of woods that stretch for miles. It's too far from other buildings, and they haven't gotten out that far to build bridges, so traveling by rooftop is out of the question for at least half of the journey. Traveling through the sewers is also a no-go, as the tunnels only come within a few miles before veering off. However, getting to the library is essential. 

That requires a plan in of itself. 

"We're going to have to get as close as possible, then sneak the rest of the way," Alec tells them as they start their journey through the sewers. "As long as we're silent and keep moving, we shouldn't alert any zombies." 

"There are thin parts of any horde," Jace mutters, following up the rear of the long line of nine people walking. "Usually broken up around abandoned cars, or just a few scattered around alleyways. Staying low and avoiding making any noise is _key."_

"And," Alec says calmly, "if things go wrong, what's the retreat alarm? Maia? Sebastian?" 

"Idris," Maia and Sebastian say dutifully. 

"Good." Alec nods and looks over his shoulder from the front. "If we absolutely have to, we run. The library is the rendezvous point--if we get separated, _get there._ If you get stuck and need assistance, use the flare gun, if you're able. Try to stay as close to the last place you were seen as possible. Someone will come back for you, even just to check." 

"No one gets left behind," Simon whispers. 

"Never?" Maia asks curiously. "I mean, what if going back means someone else gets hurt?" 

Simon whirls around to glare at her. "We _always_ go back. Sooner or later. Maybe not right that moment, maybe after we regroup, but we go back. _No one_ gets left behind. No one."

Maia falls silent. 

"This is going to seem crude, but what if you go back and...well, what if that person is bitten?" Sebastian asks cautiously, clearing his throat. 

"We take them back to the Institute, and we handle it," Clary says softly, her words bleak and quiet, tinged with pain. Sebastian looks like he regrets asking. "We can't do that now, obviously. If--if it's impossible to get them back home, then we take care of it there, if we can." 

"Have you had to?" Maia murmurs. 

"No," Izzy admits. "We've lost some before on raids, but we always get them home." 

"Remember," Magnus cuts in, clearing his throat to change the subject, "always stick close to someone. Find your end of the world buddy and _stick with them._ Personally, I will be attaching myself to Alexander in whichever way I can manage, so I'm afraid he's taken. Call your dibs now." 

"Dibs on the tiny redhead," Sebastian says immediately, making Clary reach forward to jab him with her gun in threat. He just grins at her over his shoulder and winks. "Just you and me, love." 

"I thought you meant me, actually," Jonathan mutters, making everyone crack up in laughter. "But, in the spirit of dibs, I'm snagging Jace while I can." 

"Oh, same," Simon agrees cheerfully, reaching back to get a high-five from Jonathan. "We can be the three marketeers, dude." 

"That leaves me with you," Izzy tells Maia conversationally. "A word to the wise, I can't see very well in the dark. Used to wear glasses, you know." 

"Oh, great," Maia says flatly. 

"Pairing off doesn't matter," Alec mutters flatly. "Chances are, you won't end up with who you meant to anyway. The most important thing is to try and have _someone_ with you at all times. You'll be less likely to die with someone watching your back."

That sours the mood immediately.

The rest of the journey through the sewers is held in relative silence, with the occasional spike of conversation. Simon actually manages to drag everyone into a round of twenty questions, in spirit of lifting the mood, and that eventually trails off into sharing stories with each other. Some from before the end of the world, some from after. 

That's what the shift in life is, anyway. The pivotal moment when everything was split into two separate categories. Before the end, and after it. 

It's not like the movies. Not the ones where everything is death and despair. People continue to live, to survive, because that's what they're built to do. Death and despair is littered heavily in throughout, sure, but there's more to it than just that. It's not constantly killing zombies; more often than not, killing zombies are few and far between. 

It's more about the survival part. People coming together to grow food, people learning to live in a world without modern accommodations, people always hungry and tired and scared. 

They're almost drawing towards the first break from the sewer, where they'll start traveling by rooftop, when Jonathan speaks up. 

"The idea of a cure is strange," he says out of nowhere, tone soft. "I think it'd be weird for things to go back to normal after everything." 

There's a brief silence as they all take in his unapologetic honesty. It's a little strange to admit that, but Jonathan has always been odd. He has no qualms about saying that the cure isn't something he's clambering towards with single-minded hope. And, when Jace thinks about it, he realizes that Jonathan sort of has a point. 

"It could change things," Clary says firmly, like that clears everything up. "Make things better." 

Jonathan hums. "I know. That's why it's weird."

More silence, uncomfortable this time. Jonathan is a little too free with his acceptance of the end of the world, but then again, Jace supposes he has a right to be. He never fit in the ordinary world, so he's probably not looking forward to possibly going back to that. Frankly, Jace doesn't know if he is either. 

It's been years. Years of running, of loss, of survival. Gritting teeth and pushing on, shedding innocence and doing the hard things, learning to desensitize themselves to the horror of the world and finding their own ways of coping. There's nothing ordinary about who they are now. In a way, they've been in a constant war for years, under threat, consistently on edge. Relaxing and feeling safe seems like an alien concept, one Jace doubts he, especially, will adjust to very easily. So, Jonathan has a point. 

"Nothing will ever be the same," Magnus announces loftily, fluidly smoothing over Jonathan's near creepy declaration. "The world won't recover from this, and neither will any survivors. But...maybe the cure can ensure the children will grow up without having to experience what we have. If there's a chance that Madzie can have even a _sliver_ of a normal life, there's nothing I wouldn't do to give it to her." 

"She deserves that," Jonathan agrees gently. 

"And we're going to do everything in our power to make sure she gets it," Alec says firmly, suddenly coming to a halt under the grate they always exit from. He turns around and looks at all of them, his gaze finally settling on Magnus, eyes softening almost immediately. "We're going to try." 

"Could be impossible," Clary says with a small frown, ducking her head like she's ashamed of her own doubt, fingers twisting the strap of her bag. 

"Impossible just means try again," Alec murmurs, sharing a small smile with Magnus. He breaks their locked gazes with a swallow and looks at everyone, expression grim. "Alright, everyone knows the route, right? We'll be on the roofs for a while, then back in the sewers, where we'll rest before going up for a final time. After that, we're on solid ground with the corpses. Ready?" 

When everyone nods, he takes a deep breath and starts climbing the ladder. 

* * *

It seems, at first, like things might actually go well. 

Jace should have known better, though. 

They all should have. 

They have a quick break in the last part of the sewers, huddling around to share snacks in complete silence, far too wary to draw in any zombies up top. Then, just like that, they make their way up without the safety of rooftops or sewers, almost bare in the middle of the deserted road that they come out at. 

There's no zombies right beside them, but they all can hear the shuffling and groans nearby. Too close for comfort, really, and Jace takes special care to slide the sewer lid closed without making a sound. 

Weapons at the ready, they all follow Alec across the road, nice and easy, quiet and crouching. They're about five miles out from the library, which under normal circumstances would only be a trip around an hour and a half. This is the zombie apocalypse, though, so it's like walking a minefield stretching five miles, meaning it'll probably take closer to two hours. Or more, realistically, counting detours. 

Eventually, they break past a few buildings to come out at a sidewalk, hugging the side of the wall as they peer out at the four-way stop. Cars are littered all over the road, some abandoned up on the sidewalk, and most of the buildings have been salvaged for anything of use at this point--though there is a general store that looks promising. 

However, Jace sees the problem almost immediately. Ideally, a hoard of zombies would actually be a lot easier to manage. When they're clustered in one big group, like a tide of decay and rot, it's a lot easier to avoid them. When it's like this, when there's groups of zombies scattered all over the place, it makes it _a lot_ harder to maneuver around them. Going around a car to avoid a clump of six zombies could easily put them in the path of five on the other side. It's _precisely_ like a minefield. 

They have to be very careful. 

A sudden shuffling behind them makes them all whirl around, weapons swinging up. Jace's heart nearly stops in his chest when he sees the source of the noise. 

A young girl with lopsided pigtails covered in blood and grime comes stumbling forward with a raspy groan. She's a very fresh zombie, that much is clear, probably only a handful of days, at most. The progression of her decay isn't very heavy, most of her skin still intact, except the blackened chunk that's been taken out of her shoulder. She must have been bitten there, torn into without mercy. 

For a moment, no one moves as she draws closer, groaning louder. The amount of sorrow that surrounds them now is like shackles holding them in place, emotion swelling at the atrocity of such a thing. A child. _A child._

A zombie, now, who is only growing in volume and will alert _more_ if it isn't silenced. This is the hard part, when emotions have to be shut down, lest they all suffer for the lapse in judgement. It's terrible, it's sickening, it's _survival._

Jace wipes it all away, silencing his mind, and he carefully pushes away from the wall to slowly approach the zombie, still crouched. It's always him, if he can help it. The others shouldn't have to. They do, because this is what the world is now, but he tries to make sure that it's not them if he gets the chance. 

Mechanically, he reaches out to grip one pigtail while she snaps at him, surprisingly strong for such a small thing. He looks into her milky eyes, sees the black veins beneath her gray skin, and he very firmly doesn't think of Madzie when he swings his blade up and buries it forcefully into her skull. Her attempts at tearing into him stop immediately and she sags like all of her strings have been cut, nearly dropping before Jace catches her and slowly lowers her to the ground without a sound. 

He doesn't reach out to close her dead eyes, but he wants to. Instead, he snatches the blade out and wipes it on her dirty clothes, and he doesn't dwell on what her name might have been as he turns around and picks his way back over to his spot at the wall. 

The others had watched. He knows they did, can tell by their grim expressions. But, after a moment, they turn away from the little girl's body and focus on the task at hand. Just like that. 

This is what the world is now. 

After a long moment, Alec looks back at everyone and nods, carefully making his way around the corner. Jace, as always, brings up the end and keeps a careful watch as he follows. Mostly, he does this because it's a good way to keep everyone safe, but it soothes him to know that if they get attacked from behind, he'll be the one to go first. 

Alec sticks to the sidewalks, leading them further up the street, careful around debris as he goes. The first obstacle they encounter is a car blocking their path. To the immediate left of it is a group of about four zombies that shuffle around, occasionally knocking into the car and jostling it. Going around the car is impossible, climbing through it won't be quiet enough, and four people going over to pick off the zombies is too risky. Jace doesn't actually see the path forward, but this is why _Alec_ is in charge. 

Without a word, Alec eases up to the side of the car and lays flat, carefully shimmying his way beneath it. He pauses to look back, waving Magnus forward so they'll crawl through together. It's better that way, to have someone on the other side in case things go wrong, and Magnus instantly settles down and fluidly eases his way to join Alec, almost so graceful that Jace is a little jealous. 

They eventually disappear to the other side, and Izzy is quick to follow with Maia at her side. Then, Clary and Jonathan go together, while Sebastian follows after them on his own. Simon stays behind with Jace, despite Jace's protesting glare, and he simply replies with an expression that very obviously says _well, you didn't think I'd let you do it alone, did you?_

Swallowing a sigh, Jace waves Simon forward with a scowl, watching the zombies that have started moving around a lot more, activity increasing worryingly. They're no doubt sensing the presence of them so close, and their time is nearly up before the zombies locate them. 

Jace gets down and squirms his way under the car with Simon right beside him, and they're fully beneath it when they have to come to a sudden halt. The car starts shaking as the zombies groan louder and louder, moving around like buzzing bees, making the frame of the car jostle over and over. 

Alec's face appears beneath the edge of the car, eyes wide, and he holds up three fingers. 

Right. Plan three. Got it. 

Jace nods and waves a frantic hand, telling them without words to just fucking _go._ Alec shoots him and Simon one more serious look, frowning, and then his face disappears. They watch as the other's shoes slowly start moving, picking up the pace as they get farther away until there's no sight of their legs anymore. Jace takes a quiet breath and looks over at Simon, who seems to be trying to not look so frightened, but he's doing a terrible job of it. 

Plan three consists of drawing semi-alerted zombies away from whomever has gotten themselves stuck somewhere. Seeing as Jace and Simon are trapped beneath a car with zombies stumbling around, looking for the source of their food, they don't have a choice but to sit tight and wait. 

It's a little exhausting, actually. They lay side by side on their fronts, heads tipped back to stare at the four different pairs of shuffling feet that pass by, shoulder-to-shoulder and _very_ tense. Should the zombies actually find them, they do not have a way to escape unscathed, and they'll probably end up dead. 

They barely even breathe. 

Then the car rocks almost violently, making the undercarriage press down on them both painfully. Jace bites down on his tongue to keep from grunting beneath the strain, and he snaps a hand out to clap it over Simon's mouth, muffling the sound that undoubtedly wants to rise from his throat. Simon breathes quietly into his palm, eyes wide as their gazes lock, and Jace has just enough room to shake his head carefully. 

Simon nods a little, shifting in silent increments to reach up and pull Jace's hand away from his mouth. Instead of letting go, he threads their fingers together and squeezes tight, screwing his eyes shut and panting quiet, measured breaths. 

Jace can't exactly protest at the moment, and he finds that he doesn't really want to, so he lets Simon hold his hand without trying to pull away. 

It feels like forever before there's a loud crash in the distance, most likely alerting _all_ the zombies in the area. Simon's eyes fly open, and they both watch as the zombies around the car immediately change direction. They wait, knowing better than to make a run for it just yet. As soon as the shuffling reaches a far enough distance away, Jace starts making his way from beneath the car, tugging Simon out with him. 

They stand up together, releasing deep breaths, watching all the zombies converge to the left, heading in the direction of the noise. Together, they duck down and start towards the right, knowing that the others are in the _opposite_ direction of whatever drew the zombies away. 

Jace starts up the street, alert and tense, ducking down behind entryways and walls, jerking Simon around roughly to guide him. They're moving quick while they have the freedom to actually do so with the zombies attention diverted. They're moving so quickly, in fact, that it's a surprise when what happens next seems to go in slow motion. 

Just as they're darting past a shop with the windows busted out, the door hanging off the frame, a stumbling corpse comes barreling through the doorway. It's too late to stop and wait for it to pass, and they all collide together as the zombie's groans turn into raspy hisses. It all seems to happen like slides on a PowerPoint presentation. First slide, the zombie comes fumbling out of the shop. Slide two, the zombie goes crashing into them. Slide three, the zombie realizes they are, in fact, human and _immediately_ starts attacking. And, lastly, slide four--it's a short presentation--the zombie throws itself on top of Simon and goes right for his throat. 

Simon, miraculously, doesn't scream. All he does is swing his bat up, and shove fruitlessly at the zombie, his face twisting into pure fright as he realizes precisely what's about to happen. 

Jace realizes it in the same exact moment, can see it clear as day, how the zombie will reel back and surge forward to tear into Simon's hand. And that will be that, all she wrote, ding-dong Simon is gone. Something within him _violently_ protests that, mind shoving the mere idea away, and he's reacting without even a thought. 

Zombies, as a rule, are driven by their hunger. Their source of nourishment is flesh, the smell of life, the scent of clean blood. In a room full of people, they go for the one who makes the most noise, who's the warmest, or anyone who bleeds at that time. 

So, with a speed he didn't even know he possessed, Jace drags his dagger across his hand in a jagged cut, the wound immediately pulsing with blood. Frantically, he shoves his palm towards the zombie, just as it rears back with all intentions of clamping down on Simon's hand. Instead, its head snaps up at the first sign of Jace's blood, and it careens off of Simon to go lunging for Jace with a gargled growl. 

There's a scuffle as Jace tries to get his dagger through its skull, but this particular corpse seems to be fueled by its bloodlust. It knocks into him so hard that he falls backwards with a grunt, landing in the pile of glass outside the shop front that they'd been avoiding. The thick acrid smell from the rotting body makes bile rise in his throat, but he grits his teeth through it and tries to knock the zombie off. 

It does not seem to be working. 

For a brief moment, Jace thinks _this is it, this is where I die,_ and he realizes that he's mostly okay with that. It'll suck that he can't keep the others safe on the rest of this journey, but he doesn't regret it. He'd do it again in a heartbeat, cut himself open as many times as needed, just so Simon can see tomorrow. 

Of course, that train of thought gets abruptly derailed when a bat--Simon's bat, specifically--comes swinging down _hard_ to the side of the zombie's head. So hard that it sails to the side and lands into the glass with a shriek, falling off of Jace from the momentum of Simon's swing. As it scrambles to get up, trying to lunge for him again, Simon pulls his bat back and surges forward with his face twisted into rage, beating the zombie's head in. Over and over, he hits it until the place where the head used to be is mostly just mush at this point. 

Jace swiftly pushes himself to his feet, fisting his wounded hand with a grimace to try and stem the blood flow. With his free hand, he reaches out to stop Simon from swinging the bat down again--needlessly because the zombie is _very_ dead now. 

They've made a great deal of noise, and it won't be long before the other zombies realize the fabricated sound from the others was nothing and start this way to investigate this one. Jace tugs on Simon's shirt with his uninjured hand, avoiding his gaze, silently leading him up the street again at a near run. 

After a few moments of hurrying up the street--far enough away from the doors this time--Simon reaches out to yank on Jace's shoulder, dragging him unceremoniously into one of the open doors of another shop-front. The glass is intact this time, though, and so are the blinds. Simon flicks them down, locks the doors, and shoves Jace back with a firm look, pointing his bat to the back of the store. 

Jace gets the message. He doesn't like it, but he gets it. Seeing as he's in no position to argue--and literally can't speak without fear of alerting any zombies that may be inside--he grits his teeth and watches in anger as Simon darts away before Jace can properly stop him. 

God, Jace _hates_ it when Simon does the sweeps. He always seems to be gone too long, and he--he shouldn't be alone. It's nerve-wracking, and Jace fidgets as he waits for Simon to get back. 

After a moment, he realizes that this is the general store he'd caught sight of earlier. That's slightly encouraging, mostly because he knows that means they've at least made it a few blocks. It's mostly sparse, but there are a lot of things on the shelves, useful things that Jace can't imagine why no one would have taken already. To be fair, the store doesn't exactly stand out or seem all that inviting, so people honestly might have just missed it. That happens. 

"Jace," Simon hisses, voice sharp but quiet. 

Head snapping up, Jace is moving forward before he even knows why he's being called. Simon glares at him as he comes out the swinging door, hauling his bag and dropping it on the counter. He points forcefully at the spot beside his bag, fully _not_ fucking around, and Jace is minutely cowed be the pure fury in his gaze. Obediently, he stands in the spot Simon directed him to, not moving as Simon stomps off to disappear down the aisles. 

This is...not good. 

After a few moments, Simon eventually comes back, having apparently scored some supplies. He's actually found a bottle of rubbing alcohol, plus an ace bandage, and he's got a few other things gathered in his arms. He moves over to his bag to put everything up except the bandage and the alcohol. Jaw clenched, not saying a word, he roughly reaches out to yank on Jace's wrist, getting a better view of the cut. 

"You're angry," Jace notes, almost casually, his voice a careful whisper. 

Simon's eyes are blazing when they flick up to meet Jace's. "What gave you that idea?" he snaps, low and sharp, lips twisting bitterly as he pops the cap on the alcohol. "Can't imagine why you'd think that." 

Jace sighs. "Simon--" 

"You could have _died,"_ Simon whispers harshly, searching Jace's gaze, every line of his body pulled taut like an over-tuned guitar string. 

"I know," Jace admits softly. 

Simon's fingers go slack around Jace's wrist, his chest expanding on a deep inhale. "It--Jace, it could have killed you, because of _me."_

"For you," Jace whispers, "I would have let it."

The silence is thick after that, and they just stare at each other. Jace doesn't regret saying the words, not exactly, because they're true, but he does not at all appreciate how vulnerable and exposed he feels immediately after admitting it. Simon's gaze on him eventually becomes too much, and he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. 

"Jace--" 

"Shut up, Simon. Just--just do whatever it is that you need to do so we can go meet up with the others. We don't have a lot of time." 

"We never have a lot of time," Simon mutters, frowning as he cups the bottom of Jace's hand and overturns the rubbing alcohol. 

Jace hisses through his teeth at the burn, but he doesn't wince or jerk back. Simon carefully brings his palm up closer to his face and blows on it gently, instantly soothing the pinpricks of fire that laces the open wound. For some reason, the tenderness of such an action makes Jace feel restless, the urge to pull away and make a break for it nearly overriding all his senses. He tolerates it, though, and before long, he's fascinated with the sight of Simon ever so gently blowing on his palm, suddenly and reverently never wanting him to stop. 

"The others shouldn't be far," Jace manages to say through a strangled tone. "If we stick to--" 

"Don't ever do that again," Simon interrupts, like he wasn't even listening to Jace anyway. He carefully starts wrapping the wound, not looking away from the bandage as he murmurs, "Never again. Don't put a value on your life and decide it is less than mine. Do you hear me, Jace? Never again."

Jace frowns at him, slightly bothered to see Simon look _genuinely_ unhappy. "Is that what you think I was doing?" he asks. 

"That's how it feels," Simon admits, finally looking up to stare at him. "You are not a machine meant to keep us alive, even at the cost of yourself. I keep telling you that." 

"We're both fine." Jace pulls his hand away from Simon and scowls at the floor. "Just let it go."

Simon's swallow is loud in the silence. "I wouldn't have been able to--to live with it," he croaks out, the words heavy with emotion, always feeling so much, all the time. "With losing you. In general, I mean, but especially like...like _that,_ for me, because of me. Jace, I wouldn't be able to handle that, so please just--just never again." 

Jace looks up finally, blown away by the sincerity in Simon's gaze, something rattling in his chest at the sight, squirming and painful and _good_ all at the same time. His mouth goes dry, heart doing that _stupid_ fluttering thing again as he realizes… Simon means it. He wouldn't be able to take it, and that's--god, that's exactly how Jace feels every single minute of every day. That brittle fear that someone, anyone, will die because of him, because he's not quick enough to stop it, because he failed to keep them alive. 

"We need to go," Jace whispers, ducking his head to look away, pushing away from the counter and heading towards the door. 

He doesn't look away fast enough, however, and the way Simon's face falls haunts him as he walks away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are againnnnn. I love this fic so much 😭 also, a small warning for discussion of past drug abuse. This week is an Izzy moodboard! Go check it out on my tumblr:
> 
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

Thankfully, after about twenty minutes of steady traveling with just the two of them, they finally stumble over the others. Or, well, Alec reaches out to snag his arm as they're moving past an alleyway, and just like that, they're all together again. 

Alec looks at the bandage with a frown, but Jace just shakes his head. 

And so, they fall back into line with tight smiles to the openly relieved others. As if there wasn't even a hiccup in the system, they start their journey once more with Alec in the lead. 

The following hour and a half is excruciatingly slow, but Alec ensures that they're careful. There's no other close calls, and the random groups of zombies have started to thin out as they draw closer to their destination. Then, quite abruptly, there's a little swarm of them right outside of the library, but Alec seems to have expected this because he has them sneak in a wide arc around to the back. 

The end of the world had, thankfully, happened on a Sunday. Late in the evening, when most places are already closed. So, the library shouldn't have any zombies lingering inside, outside of the random employee or two, but there's always the risk that some managed to get inside anyway. 

With just the motions of his finger, Alec splits them off into groups to collectively sweep the building. Once they're inside, he gestures to the largest statue right in the middle of the lobby, circling a finger and then jabbing it towards the statue. Loud and clear: _sweep, then meet back here._ Everyone nods, and they all split off. 

Jace is with Jonathan and Simon, as per their earlier request in the sewers, so he takes the lead with his blade at the ready. They don't run into any zombies, and by the time they've reached the statue, everyone else is already walking towards it, much more relaxed. Magnus is cleaning his broken lance, and Alec is putting an arrow back, so they probably handled a zombie or two. 

"So, that's not a bite, right?" Maia whispers, jerking her chin at Jace's hand. She shrugs sheepishly when everyone stares at her. "Sorry, had to ask." 

"You didn't," Simon snaps, crossing his arms and glaring at her. "We have a rule. If one of us gets bit, we tell the others." 

"But it's not that," Jace assures her, quickly unraveling the bandage to show off the clear slice in his palm. "Just cut my hand, that's all. It's already healing, see? It'll be fine by the time we leave." 

"Stop that," Simon grumbles, apparently still in a pissy mood as he reaches out smack Jace's hand away and wrap the other all over again. Firmly, he stares at Jace and orders, "Don't unwrap it again." 

Jace rolls his eyes. "I'm _fine._ Relax."

"Guys," Alec mutters with a huff, "the blueprints. We didn't take this trip for _fun."_

"What are you talking about?" Magnus asks in amusement, leaning up against the statue with a small smirk. "I'm having a _wonderful_ time." 

Alec's entire face goes beet red and he coughs, eyes darting around almost helplessly before settling right back on Magnus like he hasn't quite worked out how to tear his gaze away at will yet. There's a moment where they stare at each other, unabashedly _gazing_ into each other's eyes, and it's so intimate that Jace struggles to keep watching it unfold. Except he does, because there's something so enthralling about seeing his brother be so...so _gone_ on someone. 

Then, suddenly, there's such deep yearning on Alec's face that Jace's breath gets plucked right from his lungs. Alec _wants,_ desperately so, and it's painful to look at head-on. He forces his gaze away again, and this time it sticks as he breathes for a moment, looking down at the ground. Magnus sighs softly and turns away, not noticing Alec glance back up to watch him with this hopeless, pining expression that genuinely tugs at Jace's heartstrings. 

There are many disservices in this grotesque world, but this, by far, is one of the worst. 

"Blueprints," Clary declares softly, squeezing Alec's arm supportively as she walks past, waving a hand towards the record room, the only place none of them have been yet. 

This world is a mixture of fast moments and brief lulls. They know better than to fall into a false sense of security, always on alert, doing their best to be prepared for anything. But, even still, it comes as a great surprise when they walk to the room, and Clary opens the door without preamble. Almost instantly, zombies come pouring out, apparently having been waiting by the door like a cosmic joke. 

The first falls right into Clary, who looks so alarmed that it's almost comical, except nothing about this is funny. She shoves it away with a grunt, blinking rapidly as she swings the muzzle of her gun up, shoving it into the zombie's mouth and pulling the trigger. Even with the silencer screwed into the end, the sound releases a loud _hiss-pop_ that seems to urge the remaining zombies into a frenzy. 

There has to be twelve, at the very least, and that doesn't make any sense. Why would they be here, stuck in this room? Employees, or survivors who holed up into the room, one of them bitten and eventually infecting them all? There aren't answers, and they'll never truly know. All that matters is dispatching of the corpses as quickly as possible. 

Maia surges forward when one of the zombies goes lunging for Magnus, grunting as she kicks out and sends it stumbling back a few steps. Sebastian moves forward swiftly to yank Clary back from the direct line of the reanimated bodies that flood out of the room, rotten skin and twisted limbs all spreading out to try and get to a target, any target. Alec has already skidded back with a sharp curse, docking his first arrow with his eyes narrowed in concentration. 

It's a short fight, all things considered. There are only twelve corpses and nine of them. Sebastian swings his machete, while Clary brings out her daggers, and Magnus seems to be dancing around fluidly as he jerks his lance into skulls. Alec covers the long range, while Izzy covers him, knocking back any zombies that get too close with her own bat--different from Simon's, shorter with thick spikes sticking up from the sides and the end. Simon's swinging valiantly with his own bat, one made of steel and covered in faded bloodstains. Jace and Jonathan easily work side by side, shoving their blades into skulls almost in perfect unison. 

The last zombie's head lands on the ground with a dull splat as Sebastian slices his machete through its neck with a delighted grin that's just on the side of wild, his eyes bright with excitement, panting as he finally comes to a halt. Almost immediately, however, he turns around to look at Clary with an exceptionally soft expression. 

"Alright, love?" he asks. 

Clary frowns at him. "I'm _fine,"_ she snaps, swiping her daggers clean on her coat and sheathing them back in her thigh holsters. "I can handle myself." 

"Fray," Simon says gently, reaching out to touch her arm, his eyes unguarded and full of concern. "Seriously, are you okay?" 

"I'm good. I am." Clary clears her throat and looks down at herself like she has to double check. "Yeah, no bites. It's fine." 

"Good kick," Izzy complements Maia, eyeing her in thinly veiled appreciation. 

Maia quirks an eyebrow. "Nice bat." 

"You too, Simon," Jace finds himself saying, instantly regretting it when everyone stares at him like he's grown a second head. He clears his throat and flicks a hand lazily. "With the bat, I mean. Just--you did good, for once. That's all." 

Simon beams at him. 

"The blueprints," Jonathan reminds everyone, apparently taking sympathy on Jace, who's working very hard not to squirm under everyone's gazes. 

Jace has always liked Jonathan. 

Usually, blueprints can be found in a city hall, but the building the lab is in is decades old, so they'll be archived at the library. They all head in together to start the search for it, and Magnus finds it after only a few minutes. They splay it out on a table, crowding around it to stare down at it. 

The place isn't exactly easily accessible. The sewers pass right beneath with no outlet and, from memory, Jace knows there's not a lot of surrounding buildings. In fact, the lab is on the other side of the woods behind this library, up a long winding gravel path, surrounded by zombies. Many people were turned there, having gone _to_ the lab once it became clear that The Circle is the lab that released the virus. People went with intentions to riot, to demand The Circle fix it, and all they'd gotten for their trouble was the disease. 

The building has three floors, and then a basement level. Long, thin hallways with large rooms scattered on each side. It's built like a fortress, though. Each break in the hallways indicates a door that they'll need some way to get through. Fortunately, they have both Jocelyn's and Robert's ID card, so they'll have some sort of access, at least. 

Getting _into_ the lab is what will be the problem. It's crawling with the walking corpses, and there's not exactly a back entrance into the place. Jace has no idea how the fuck they're going to make it inside without causalities, and by the furrow in Alec's brow, their leader doesn't either. 

"If we travel now, we'll get caught out at dawn," Alec murmurs, frowning down at the blueprints. After a beat, he glances up and looks around at everyone. "We'll wait here until nightfall, and then we'll start for the lab tomorrow. Try and rest, get some food, and stay quiet. The zombies right out the door are going to be more aware during the day, so we'll need to be careful." 

Clearly dismissed, everyone starts pulling away to go back out to the lobby and find places to settle. Jace lingers, however, looking at Alec patiently. 

"You have no idea how to get inside, do you?" Jace asks softly, sharing a look with Magnus, the only other person who opted to stick around. 

Alec frowns harder. "Not yet," he admits, flicking his gaze over the blueprints. "Give me some time, I'll have something by the time we leave."

"You need your rest too," Magnus murmurs, watching him sadly. 

"Magnus is right." Jace glances down at the blueprints with a sigh. "We'll figure it out. You can work on it, but take some time to unwind. You won't be able to think straight--or, uh, think _properly_ if you're exhausted."

Alec stares at him flatly. "You're hilarious." 

Jace looks at him sheepishly. "Yeah, but I'm also serious. Do you want me to stay and help?" 

"No," Alec says with a weary sigh, flicking his gaze around the room. "I'm going to check the maps of the surrounding areas, especially the layout for the woods. I'll handle it. You should go make sure the others are getting some kind of rest, at least." 

"I'll stay," Magnus volunteers, his lips curling up in amusement. "We'll put our heads together and think through this...not straight, but properly." 

Jace snorts. "You do that. Find me if you need me." 

"I will," Alec assures him, throwing Magnus a wary glance, even if his eyes swirl with anticipation. 

With a small chuckle, Jace heads out of the room to go locate the others and make sure they're actually preparing themselves for the rest of the journey. The battle isn't even half-won, barely even a quarter of the way really, and everyone needs to conserve their energy, especially this early in. 

The library is large, so there's no doubt in his mind that the others split off to spend some time in pairs or alone. Privacy is a rare treat, and he has no intentions of impending on that for anyone. He just wants to make sure no one is wearing themselves out, or openly nervous, or methodically cleaning their weapons because they're too anxious to do anything else--a sure sign that they're _not_ resting. 

Clary is on the upper level, shoved away in between two bookshelves, right in direct light with a beam of light coming in from the window. Her art supplies are scattered around her, and Jace _knows_ that drawing is a form of relaxation for her, so he's satisfied that she's not wearing herself thin. He's about to turn around and leave when he sees Sebastian approach her with a small smile, and before he knows what he's doing, Jace is ducking behind the bookshelf to watch them curiously. 

He's not _eavesdropping,_ he's just...making sure they're relaxing. Yeah, that's what he's doing, following Alec's orders and nothing more. 

"May I join you?" Sebastian asks politely, gesturing to the space across from her. 

Clary glances at him out of the corner of her eye for a moment, then sighs. "Yeah, sure." 

"More art?" Sebastian asks as he carefully settles down, watching her like she's some fascinating creature he's enthralled by. "If you don't mind my asking, what are you working on?" 

"Dunno yet," Clary murmurs, looking down at her blank page with a frown. "I feel like doing a portrait. Maybe my mom, or Simon, or Jace. Alec has a very good nose, but Magus' cheekbones are to die for. Though, if I wanted to focus on hair, I could draw Maia--maybe her and Izzy both to do different types beside each other. Jonathan has a strong jawline, so I'd get to work with shadows. And you--well, you've got, um, a lot of...good features to, uh, draw."

Sebastian's expression can only be described as fond. "Have you drawn either me or Maia yet?"

"No," Clary admits, flicking her gaze up to look at him, her lips pursing. "I want to, though." 

"Hmm." Sebastian tilts his head and considers her, lips curling up. "Do you do self-portraits?" 

Clary blinks and wrinkles her nose. "God, no. That's not--I can't ever get it right. I've tried. Mostly to try and draw myself into a group drawing. But the dimensions are always off because you don't ever see or perceive yourself as you properly are. I can always perfectly draw the slope of Jace's cheeks because I can see them and understand them, but looking in the mirror doesn't give me an outsider perspective of myself. Like, I can't see both of my eyes at the same time, so I'll _never_ get the distance between them right. So, no, I don't do self-portraits." 

"Pity." Sebastain's voice softens here, smooth and low like a melody. "You, out of everyone, deserve to be drawn the most. You're brilliant, and I find it detestable that I don't even have a piece of the talent you do; I truly wish I did, simply so I could capture your beauty. You're a masterpiece in of itself." 

There's a long silence where Clary just stares blankly down at her empty sketchpad, fingers gripping it so tight that her knuckles go white. She takes a deep breath, one so slow and full that her collarbones stick out from beneath her sweater, the dips in her neck hollowing to emphasize the tendons. Then she blows the exhale out all at once, harsh and loud, looking up to stare at him and shake her head. 

"And you," she mutters, "are _extremely_ charming." 

Sebastian grins at her. "I know, it's a curse. Trust me, love, I've been trying to escape my own charms for years. It doesn't work, I'm afraid." 

Jace can feel his lips curling up into a smirk when Clary shifts and clears her throat, chewing on her bottom lip. She's got it bad, and after her _irritating_ insinuation that he's in the same boat with Simon, this feels like proper karma. 

"Whatever," Clary mumbles with a weak scoff, tapping her pad and scanning Sebastian's face with intent. "So, it's okay if I draw you?"

"Oh," Sebastian says, suddenly going still like he's been abruptly put on pause. He looks at her with wide, earnest blue eyes. "I--I don't know precisely how to be your model. Do I sit still, or pose? Do I need to be silent, or should I--well, you tell me what I need to do." 

Clary's eyes light up with amusement and she lets out a huff of laughter. "Relax, I just need to look at you, Sebastian, that's all." She is silent again for a brief moment, then she clears her throat. "I may have to, uh, get kind of...close to you. Just--just to see certain angles of your face. Do you mind?" 

"Not at all," Sebastian says instantly. 

"No funny business," Clary warns him, waggling a pencil at him, shifting restlessly again. 

Sebastian smiles at her warmly, laying his hand over his chest. "I'll behave, I swear it." 

Jace sincerely doubts that, and by the wary look Clary shoots at Sebastian, so does she. He bites back the laugh that crawls up his throat and forces himself to quietly pad away. They're fine, they're relaxing, and there's something almost sickeningly sweet about how much Sebastian _truly_ adores Clary. He leaves them alone to let it unfold between them unsupervised, silently pleased that she's getting the attention she deserves. 

A few moments later, he's snatching himself out of view yet again when he nearly walks by Maia and Izzy relaxing on beanbag chairs in the teen room. There's a zombie lying still in the corner, and they both seem to be ignoring it well enough. They look comfortable, sprawling out in the mounds beneath them, and he almost thinks they're sleeping. He's about to silently back out of the room when Izzy abruptly speaks. 

"So, the zombie that gave you those scars," she says bluntly, "did you kill it?" 

He can only see them from the back, but he watches Maia lift her hand to cup her neck. "Oh, these? No, I didn't get these scars from a zombie. This was from before the world went, you know, down the drain." 

Izzy hums. "Ah. Run in with a feral dog?" 

Maia snorts. "Sort of. My, uh, ex boyfriend pushed me into a wolf pen at one of the reserves in New Jersey. We couldn't go in, and there was a platform above that we could walk across and look down to watch the wolves do their thing. And I, _whoop,_ fell right on in, just splat." 

"Your ex boyfriend is the reason you have these scars?" Izzy asks tightly, the sound of her teeth grinding audible in the near-silent room. 

"Well, yeah, guess he was. Thought he was the love of my life, you know. Things were perfect in the beginning, but by the end, it was...very much _not._ Maybe a second puberty, or just being a fucking asshole, I don't know, but he started getting angry all the time. He wanted to leave New Jersey, get out and away, and I wanted to stay. We fought on our last date, and I don't think he _meant_ to do it, but he shoved me hard enough to send me right over the railing. Thankfully, there were handlers down there at the time, so I got off light." 

"You should have cut him into scraps and fed the pieces to the same wolves that gave you the scar."

Maia busts out laughing, reaching over to lightly shove at Izzy, who is not laughing at all because she is very serious--Jace knows from experience that she means that, even if she's able to grasp why it isn't actually feasible to cut up asshole boyfriends and feed them to wolves. Though, Jace reluctantly finds himself agreeing with Izzy; the ex boyfriend sounds like a genuine prick. 

"I considered it, I'll admit," Maia says, still chuckling in amusement. "But, in the end, all I did was dump him and cry for about three weeks. Then, after a falling out with my parents, I hopped in my car and took a trip to New York. And, well, here I am." 

Izzy huffs. "Well, maybe the ex boyfriend got ripped apart by zombies. It's a nice thought."

"Who knows?" Maia says softly, drawing her hand back to rub at her scar again. 

"You know," Izzy says carefully, "we all have scars, even if they're not visible." 

Maia's curls bounce as she turns to look at Izzy, her hand dropping from her neck. "Yeah? What's yours?"

"I was...about, oh, I'd say sixteen when I became addicted to opiods," Izzy tells her casually, and Jace swallows reflexively. "I got injured in dance class, and my teacher was the unsavory sort, so he gave me pain medication to get through it. Even after he stopped providing them, I found ways to get the pills and stuff I wanted. It was...very bad for a while." 

"Oh, shit," Maia mutters, sitting up straight and giving Izzy her full attention. "Wow, I honestly did _not_ see that coming. You seem so…" 

"Healthy? Put together? Well-rounded?" Izzy suggests in amusement. "Yeah, well, you didn't see me then. I covered it pretty well, but it was actually Jonathan who found out first. Things were bad, then they got worse, and then they were okay, and now it's much better--end of the world aside. My family was there for me, helped me get clean. Alec and Jace helped me through withdrawals, Simon got me into NA--narcotics anonymous--because his mom went to AA, and Clary was always there when I wanted a pill. Then the end of the world came, and well, that doesn't mean I'm not an addict anymore...it just means that it's easier for me to ignore it. I've been sober for...five years now? Yeah, five years." 

Jace is surprised to feel his eyes burning at the memory of finding out his sister was addicted to pills. Nothing about the entire experience had been pretty, and the whole year journey for her to finally settle into sobriety had been an uphill battle for her. By Clary's birthday party, she'd been sober for nearly a year. He remembers thinking, as the world broke out into chaos, he was thankful that she was steady enough to survive it. 

"Hell yeah, I'm proud of you, girl," Maia tells her fiercely, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. "I'm glad you're good now, and that you had the support you needed then." 

"Me too," Izzy says with a laugh. She pauses and considers Maia with her head tilted. "But, like I was saying, we've all got our scars." 

Maia snorts. "Yeah, that's fair. Except mine are thick lines on my neck that aren't exactly subtle." 

"You're still cute, though," Izzy tells her, like that makes up for everything else. "Actually, it's sexy. You look badass, really. Like with your shotgun, it's a sign not to fuck with you, a weapon in its own right." 

"That's the dream. To look hot while also seeming like I could kick someone's ass." 

"You've got that down pat, trust me." 

"Hey, you do too. Never seen someone batter up with _heels_ on. Seriously, how do you do that?" 

"My mom, back when she was an uptight straight-laced type of woman, _always_ made me wear heels. So, I made it a point to wear the highest, sluttiest--according to her--heels that I could find. By the time the world had ended, I didn't even own any other types of shoes." 

Maia tosses her head back and cackles, genuinely amused. "You fuckin' rebel, I love that." 

They crack up, breaking down into a fit of laughter, and Jace shakes his head with a small grin as he backs out of the room. It's nice to see them having a little fun, and he figures that this counts as relaxation in its own right. He turns around and starts his search for Jonathan or Simon. 

It's Jonathan who he finds next, curled up on one of the couches in the lounge area. He's conked out already, thin body tucked into the fetal position, chest slowly rising and falling. Like this, he looks so _small,_ so frail, and Jace's heart clenches in his chest. Clary and Jonathan both share the same trait of having a lot of personality compacted in a tiny frame, ensuring they always look cute, no matter what. 

Jace remembers meeting Jonathan when he was fourteen, recalls how delighted they both were to learn their birthdays were just a day apart. Back then, Jonathan was just the weird, creepy kid most people were certain would become the next school shooter. Seriously, they had him see the guidance counselor every week, which never failed to make him feel even _more_ out of place. But he's always been fond of Jace, and the feeling has always been mutual, and seeing him like this now--curled up into a tight ball, face smoothed out in his sleep, nearly innocent--makes Jace's protective instincts flare up. 

Before he can stop himself, he's shrugging out of his jacket and laying it over Jonathan. His lips curl up when Jonathan _immediately_ shifts to pull it tighter around himself and let out a soft snore. 

"Softie." 

Jace jolts and looks over his shoulder, smile falling into a frown when Simon grins at him. "You're supposed to be resting." 

Simon's lips twitch. "Yeah, I know. What, are you going around to make sure everyone's settling down and relaxing?" 

"Alec told me to," Jace says defensively. 

"Uh huh." Simon tilts his head. "And what about you? When are you going to rest?" 

Jace narrows his eyes. "As soon as you do, how about that?" he mutters. 

"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that," Simon says pleasantly. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder and blinks innocently. "Come with me, I want to show you something." 

"I'm good, but thanks," Jace says flatly. 

Simon raises his eyebrows and starts walking backwards. "I'm not going to rest until you come take a look," he sing-songs, grinning broadly before pivoting and heading towards the hall. 

Jace sighs and tilts his head back to scowl at the ceiling. Why is this his life? Why? 

Naturally, he follows Simon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever is reading this story, YOU'RE IN FOR A DOOZY, FOLKS 😍 This is one of my favorite chapters, and you're about to see why. For this chapter, I have a moodboard on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface
> 
> Go check it out. It's a Jimon moodboard ;)
> 
> Gah, I really hope you all enjoy this chapter!

"I found the _coolest_ thing," Simon tells him with a bright grin of excitement. "I think you'll like it." 

Jace grunts and follows behind Simon, rolling his eyes as he climbs the stairs. They pass a few statues, and Simon--like the dork he is--bows at them and laughs at his own antics. He finds joy in the littlest things effortlessly, always having some excuse to smile. It shouldn't grate on Jace's nerves, but it does. It's the zombie apocalypse for fuck's sake; everything is horrible nearly _all the time,_ and smiling often feels impossible. Yet, Simon always manages to. 

They enter a dark room, one without any windows because there's not a scrap of light in here. Jace frowns as he forces his eyes to adjust, not getting much more than a few distorted shapes in the darkness. After a moment, Simon swivels around to reach past him and shut the door, pretty much chasing away any atmospheric light from outside. 

"Simon, what are you--" 

Hands. Cool fingers fumbling with his own, Simon's hands cupping his, effectively shutting him up. Jace sucks in a sharp breath when Simon hovers in front of him in the dark, too close, so close that Jace can feel his breath across his face. This, as you can imagine, pretty much ensures Jace won't be saying anything else for the duration of Simon's proximity.

"Do you trust me?" Simon asks softly. 

Jace's swallow is audible in the silence. "Yes," he whispers, mind absolutely blank, resorting to honesty on autopilot. 

"Good," Simon says, pleased, "follow me." 

Silently, Jace lets himself be pulled further into the dark room, eyes adjusting slowly in increments. They don't go very far, just a few more steps into the room with Simon leading him by the hands. When they come to a stop, Simon pulls a hand away, fiddling with something, but his other continues to hold one of Jace's. 

There's a moment where nothing is happening, then there's a quiet _snik,_ and a soft glow fills the room. It's purple and splintered like stained glass, draping across the walls and their skin, almost glittering. Before he can stop himself, Jace breathes in sharply and stares around with his lips parted, eyes wide. 

It's incredibly beautiful, slivers of purple lighting up the room and dancing on their skin, paired off with small broken shadows that somehow softens the atmosphere. Jace stares around in awe, eyes darting about to take in the light, searching out the source of it. All he locates is what appears to be a granite rock with purple crystals on display sitting on a black tray beside a slat of cracked glass, and on the other side is a round flashlight that sends the distorted reflection of the purple crystals around the room. 

"This is…" Jace trails off, at a loss, unable to fully explain how _pretty_ this is. 

Simon beams at him. "It's nice, right? I figured even you would like it. I just found it a few minutes ago and fiddled with it until this happened." 

"And you wanted to show me?" Jace murmurs, gaze slowly dragging away from the crystal to stare at Simon's face that's dotted with glowing purple. 

"I figured it would make you smile," Simon tells him simply, like that's not such a big deal. 

Jace stares at him. "You're still so worried that I've closed myself off to everything." 

"Maybe." Simon bites his lip and clears his throat, eyes nearly luminescent in the purple hue. "Or, maybe I just...wanted to see you smile." 

"Don't say that to me," Jace replies immediately, all of his senses going on alert. "You can't say that, Simon. That's not--it's not… You were pissed at me earlier, remember?" 

"I'm _still_ pissed at you. I feel like I always am," Simon admits sheepishly. "You're just so _stubborn._ It's like you exist to make things hard for me." 

Well, that fucking hurts. Jace doesn't like hearing that _at all,_ but it's better than Simon saying sweet things without an ounce of hesitation. He doesn't like either, but especially not the kind words. It does something strange to him, gives him hope in a way he hasn't felt in a long time, and he doesn't want to have that, only to experience the excruciating departure of it later down the line. Because, inevitably, whatever Simon flippantly gives him, he will most certainly lose.

"Yeah," Jace croaks, "it's my main purpose in life, making yours a living hell." 

Simon sighs. "That's not what I said. God, you never listen to me. I _said_ you make things hard for me. Maybe I should clarify, or word it better. You make things very...confusing for me, and _that's_ hard." 

"How do I make things _confusing?_ What the hell are you talking about? I barely even--" 

"Don't even go there. Don't play dumb, Jace, because I know you're not." 

Jace swallows thickly. "Shut up, Simon. You're just talking shit, like you always do, and I don't have time for it. Thank you for showing me the room, it's really nice, but I'm going to--" 

"You were prepared to _die_ for me," Simon whispers, his words intense and heavy, even with how soft they are. "For me, you said, you would have." 

"For any one of them, too," Jace mutters, clearing his throat. "You know that." 

Simon nods, the purple slips of light sliding up and down his face. "Yeah, I do know. But it wasn't them, then. It was _me._ And I get to be upset about that, Jace. I get to think about it, and think about it, and _think about it._ I'm allowed that." 

"There's nothing to think about. It's over and done with. We both lived, end of story." 

"Then why are you still holding my hand?" 

Jace's heart--already picking up pace from the implications of this conversation--suddenly starts racing frantically in his chest. Gritting his teeth and inwardly cursing himself, he rips his hand from Simon's loose grip, taking a step back. Fuck, how hadn't he noticed that? 

_You did notice, you just didn't want to let go,_ whispers a sneaky little voice in his head that sounds, strangely enough, like Clary. 

"That doesn't make sense," Jace snaps, angry and irritated, thrown for a loop. "You're just being annoying on purpose now. Those two things have nothing to do with each other."

"But they _do,"_ Simon murmurs, stepping forward to lift his hand and place it very gently on the side of Jace's neck like he's allowed to do that, like he knows Jace won't stop him. "I'm not like you, or Alec, or even Clary. I'm not going to let this world keep me from living, from doing what I want, from enjoying things...and people. I won't _ever_ offer my life in exchange for someone else's and then hold their hand, only to _dare_ to act like it means nothing." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jace rasps, straining not to lean into Simon's touch. 

Simon's thumb strokes his pulse point. "Yes, you do. We've had this _thing_ for a while, you and I. This thing where, when things get too hard, we stop being scared of what could happen, put aside all the shit we tell ourselves that _can't_ happen, just to make sure the other is okay. You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. You have to, because if you didn't, then you'd never let me touch you like this." 

To prove his point, Simon drags his hand up to cup his cheek, and Jace's eyes flutter closed. "Simon," he whispers, "don't." 

"I wouldn't, you know. Not--not usually. Because, for all that I preach about not living in fear, I'm _very_ scared nearly all the time." Simon chuckles when those words draw out a choked off laugh from Jace, and his thumb swipes the skin near Jace's mouth. "But, uh, we could--we might die after tomorrow. Me or you, or both of us. We all saw the blueprints. I know what our chances are, and I just--I'm not going to spend what might be my last day on this shitstain of a world in fear. I refuse to." 

"That is _precisely_ why you shouldn't," Jace mutters, carefully opening his eyes and examining Simon's calm features with a furrow in his eyebrows. "What happens if I die and you don't? What then?" 

Simon sighs. "Then I'd grieve, I'd mourn, I'd--God, Jace, I'd be a fucking mess. But I wouldn't regret this. I'd be thankful that I did it while I could. Just--just to have that chance, that memory. Can't you see? Could you honestly say that if we didn't, and I died, you wouldn't regret not doing this?" 

"I could honestly say that it would hurt like a motherfucker," Jace says bluntly, forcefully, willing Simon to just _understand._ "It's not the same for me. It'd be worse if--if… It'd be worse." 

"You'd think that," Simon murmurs, inching closer, lifting his other hand to start fiddling with the collar of Jace's jacket. "But the regret, Jace...the regret would haunt you forever. I swear it would." 

Jace releases a shuddering breath, suddenly irrationally angry. "This isn't how we do things, Simon. This--this isn't our _thing._ Maybe we are there for each other, but we _always_ back off, and we're better off for it." 

"So stubborn, always so stubborn," Simon whispers, drifting close enough that they share a long stripe of purple from the crystal. His brown eyes flick to Jace's lips, throat bobbing. "God, you really need to start letting yourself have things, Jace. You've got to stop focusing on the fact that you could lose them. I know I didn't make this up, I _know_ I didn't. Just--just let yourself go, _accept_ it. I'm literally begging you." 

Simon moves forward, right into his space, close enough that his nose slides up the length of Jace's. Their cheeks brush, foreheads pressing together, lips hovering so close yet so far. Jace's eyes sink shut and his face screws up like he's in pain, a shiver running down his spine from the full brunt of his own desire. Fuck, he wants this so much, _so much,_ almost to the point that his mind is being overtaken with a fog that barrels right over his concerns and restraint, making every reason he _shouldn't_ do this go up in smoke. 

It's been so long since anyone has touched him like this. There was a time when he never would have wanted the next person to do it to be Simon, but after the things they've been through and done for each other, he honestly can't imagine it being anyone else. 

"Simon," Jace warns, his voice weak even to his own ears, "don't do this." 

Simon hums. "I'm not going to. You are." 

Jace holds his breath, willing himself to pull away, aware even through his own daze that this is the worst fucking idea. He balls his hands into fists, frozen in place, his entire _being_ demanding that he just, for once, do what Simon says. He shouldn't, he knows he shouldn't. 

God, he _really_ shouldn't. 

It's like prepping for a war he knows he can't win, donning armor that does fuck all for protecting himself, riding off at the ready _knowing_ that he won't even make it to the battlefield. As much as he tries not to, holding himself back for as long as he can, he can feel the crack in his chassis like a sore tooth--he has been prodding it over and over, obsessed with the ache, becoming dependent on the pain. Touching Simon, even when he shouldn't, becoming attuned to him like every cell in his body has just been _waiting_ for this precise moment, and none too patiently. 

He can feel the oncoming defeat like an approaching emotion, ever so slowly swelling within him. He teeters there for a while, making a small sound in the back of his throat, rocking his forehead from side-to-side against Simon's, knowing that this is a hopeless endeavor. And then, of course, when he inevitably gives in--because he always does, because he always will, because he always _wants_ to--it's like the world ending in an entirely different way. Not with a bang, but with a whimper, but the best kind. 

_I'm not going to. You are._

And, in fact, Jace does. 

With a deep gasp, like he's suddenly come up for air after drowning, Jace surges forward to press his lips against Simon's, hands flying up to grip his shoulders like he needs something to hold onto. And he does, he really fucking does, because Simon gives a triumphant little hum of approval and kisses him like this is the last day of their lives. 

It may just be. 

Like a dam bursting, pent up yearning comes rushing forward all at once, and Jace doesn't dare try and stop it. They start ripping at each other's clothes, stumbling backwards in search for some kind of surface to lean against, kissing hot and heavy. Simon licks his way into Jace's mouth, and _fuck,_ that feels so good that Jace can't hold back on his groan of relief. 

Simon yanks back with a deep lungful of air, purple blots lighting up his dazed eyes and swollen, spit-slick lips. "Thank god. Thank fucking god," he chants, trembling fingers yanking at Jace's jacket desperately to pull it off. 

It's too late now. Jace has already crossed the line, so he may as well go for broke. Helpless to stop himself, he reaches out to pull at Simon's hoodie, focused solely on getting it over his head. Once they've both shedded their coats, they reward themselves with another intense kiss that rocks Jace to his core, making him reach back and slap the wall Simon had slammed him up against to hold himself up. The wrap around his sliced hand unravels and falls away, revealing his already healed palm, going unnoticed by either of them.

It's a blur after that, a desperate frenzy to get as close as possible, touching as much skin as they can get their hands on. Everything seems to be moving so fast, erupting out of them frantically, like they've waited so long that they just need it _now, now, now._

They're rushing, and Jace knows he'll regret that later, wish he'd taken his leisure with it. But _god,_ it feels so good that stopping and slowing down is not an option. Every piece of clothing that gets removed is another fortified barricade blown to smithereens, leaving Jace unprotected as an all-encompassing longing swells within him. 

Simon pauses briefly just to get the pad of his thumb against Jace's bottom lip, putting pressure on it, apparently fixated by the sight, and Jace chokes out a shaky, "Fucking _fuck."_

"Please just get naked already," Simon breathes out, dragging his thumb from Jace's mouth, trailing it down his naked chest to hook his fingers in the front of his pants, lightly tugging on them. "These, they need to go, or I'll just get you off in them, and that will not be a fun mess to clean up." 

"Shut up, just--just _shut up,"_ Jace pants, smacking Simon's hand away to do as he's asked, getting naked swiftly, preoccupied by the sight of Simon copying him. 

Simon's skin seems painted with purple strokes, a fuzzy glow from the crystals that swipe across his body, making him look otherworldly and ethereal. For a brief, torturous moment, Jace has the idea that he shouldn't dare disgrace Simon by touching him. Not with the hands which have found comfort from a blade, have been covered in blood, dirt, and grime, hands that have done horrible things.

But that feeling is swept away when Simon drifts right into his arms, leaning his body into Jace's like there's no other place in the world he'd want to be. The moment their lips meet yet again, Jace closes his eyes and sinks into it with a pitiful keen, unable to deny himself this for any longer. He reaches around to cradle Simon's lower back, drawing him in closer, touch gentle yet insistent, aware that he's cupping the last vestiges of anything good and wholesome and _worthy_ in this godforsaken world within his roughly calloused palms. 

Simon shudders against him, the kiss full of heat, his hand slowly sliding down to grip Jace's length like this isn't an impactful action at all. 

It is, though. Very much so. Jace breaks away from the kiss with a gasp, lips parting as he glances down to watch Simon's fingers wrap around his aching cock, his touch exploratory and curious. But, once he's mapped out Jace from the base to the cockhead, he focuses entirely on stroking him. 

Selfishly, for just a moment, Jace doesn't reciprocate. He goes mindless and pliant against the wall, his legs shaking as he tips his head back and closes his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. He lets himself _feel,_ lets it wash over him, this intimate feeling of pleasure that he's gone without for so long. It leaves him trembling, whimpering as Simon moves his hand faster, leaning forward to get his lips on the column of Jace's neck and feast on his skin. 

Then, like a lighting strike, the urge to get his hands on Simon hits him. He is in just enough mind to lick his uninjured palm before dropping his head to look down, watching his own hand work Simon over. 

"Ah, ah, okay. Yes, okay," Simon rasps, pulling away from Jace's neck, his other hand on Jace's hip digging in, nails pressing into skin, most likely leaving crescent-moon indentations of pleasure behind. 

Then, suddenly, things slow down. All at once, like they want to exist here forever, stuck in this impenetrable bubble of bliss. They lean their foreheads together, randomly coming together to kiss sloppy and slow, hands moving in tandem. Here and now, for just a little bit, everything is perfect. 

Doing this makes everything else fade away. The thought that they might die tomorrow, the ever-present reminder of the state of the world, the haunting feeling of _constantly_ being on edge all escapes Jace's mind as he gets adrift in this instead. 

It's so fucking _good,_ extremely so. To the point that, for one thoughtless instant, Jace is completely willing to give up everything--the possibility of a cure, the chance at a better world, all of it--just to exist here in this moment, folded away, forever. 

It comes to one mounting crescendo after a slow crawl to release. Gasping into each other's mouths, hips jerking helplessly, they spill over each other's fingers, all at once. Quivering, they lean on each other, slumping together as they slowly come down from the intensity of their orgasms, sweaty skin pressed together, fingers still wrapped around softening cocks, their breaths mingling. 

"Simon," Jace croaks, his voice thick and thoroughly wrecked, that one word shaking with emotion. 

Simon hums, nosing at Jace's cheek. "I know, I know. It's okay," he whispers in a rasp. 

They kiss again, this time languid and tender, and Jace sighs softly when they break apart. Without a word between them, they pull away and carefully start cleaning up as much as they can, wiping their hands and cocks with the inside of Simon's hoodie, throwing each other weighted looks the entire time. 

They dress in silence, fixing themselves back to the way they were before, like this might have all been a dream. Jace doesn't try to convince himself that it was, knowing better than to avoid this. In fact, he has no intention to. This isn't something he'll be able to shove away, nor does he want to. Secretly, he wishes to hold it close and cherish it for as long as he can before the memory can become tarnished with loss. The mere idea that one day, possibly just tomorrow, that it will be smeared with grief and pain is one that stings so deep that Jace feels the preemptive ache in his chest far too soon. 

"We should sleep," Jace murmurs gruffly once he shrugs back into his jacket. "We were supposed to be resting. This...wasn't restful at all." 

Simon chuckles awkwardly. "I dunno. I mean, I feel pretty relaxed, dude." He clears his throat and eyes Jace cautiously. "I--I'm not going to ask you to...to be my _boyfriend_ or anything, and I know better than to expect this to happen again, but...just for me, can you admit that this was a thing? That _we_ were a thing?" 

"Yeah, Simon," Jace says softly, "this was a thing."

"Oh." Simon's entire face lights up. "Thank you." 

"Don't make me regret this," Jace tells him seriously, his tone low and gruff as he steps forward to stare at Simon with intensity. "Don't die, Simon. Just...don't." 

Simon's throat visibly bobs. He gives a weak smile that drops off his face almost immediately after it graces his lips. "I'll do my best." 

Jace nods, just once, sharply. He takes a moment to try and gather himself, to refocus, but he isn't ready for that yet, not without… 

Body already made up before his mind is, Jace finds himself stepping forward firmly to press a fierce kiss to Simon's lips, hard and intense enough to have Simon make a muffled sound and rock back in shock. But Jace is insistent, and he makes the kiss _count,_ reaching out to curl his fingers into Simon's hoodie to drag him closer. For a long moment, he sinks into it, relishing in how Simon relaxes into it and moans slightly. Then he forces himself to pull back, almost shoving Simon backwards as he steps back with a deep breath, blinking rapidly. 

"Get some sleep," Jace murmurs, staring at Simon, soaking him in, heart fluttering in his chest. 

With that, Jace turns around and walks away, leaving Simon reeling after that kiss, and he tells himself over and over, with each step that carries him farther and farther away, that the kiss wasn't a goodbye. 

God, he hopes it wasn't. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter moodboard this time, folks. Check it out on my tumblr: 
> 
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> Enjoy!

Alec, unsurprisingly, has been busy. 

Back in the room, there's four different maps pinned to a board, three at the bottom and one at the top. The three at the bottom have various little thumb-tacks littered around them, and the top map has circles and arrows drawn on it. Yeah, there's no way in hell Magnus or Alec got any sleep. 

"Okay, so each thumb-tack represents a cabin in the twenty mile stretch of the woods," Alec explains, waving hand to indicate every point on the map. There's only, depressingly enough, about six cabins altogether in the woods. "These are retreat points. If, for whatever reason, things go wrong and we get split up, get to a cabin and _stay_ there. As soon as it's clear and we're able, we rendezvous _here."_

Alec taps a finger to the cabin more towards the middle, closest to the edge of the woods on the other side. 

"Do you need me to draw this for everyone?" Clary asks, scanning the maps curiously. 

Alec gives her a sheepish look. "We have a set of three copies for each map, but everyone needs one. I was going to ask if you could…" 

"Yeah, I can," Clary says easily, bobbing her head. "I'll need twenty four sheets of paper, but I can have it done by nightfall. I'll just trace the first one." 

"Thanks," Alec murmurs, dipping his head at her in thanks. He clears his throat. "So, we have from sundown to sunrise to make it to the rendezvous point. We have to clear twenty miles within twelve hours, roughly. We'll settle there at dawn and rest before making it to the lab." 

Magnus hums and flicks his hand towards the map on top. "We also have a plan for that. But let's take it one step at a time. Right now, we need to focus on navigating the woods." 

"We all have our compasses," Jace says calmly, frowning at the maps, trying to imprint the layout of the land into his brain. "We just need to head North, right? Well, in between North and Northwest, and that should bring the cabin into view. Do you have any information on it?" 

Alec nods, tapping the thumb-tack again. "This is the biggest one, two stories, and also the closest to the lab. I _think_ certain lab employees actually used to stay there during the work week when they worked on time-consuming projects. The others scattered around are hunter cabins, I'm thinking." 

"So, what's the zombie situation?" Simon asks, eyebrows raising as he looks around at everyone. 

"The woods should be mostly clear," Jace mutters, crossing his arms and clearing his throat when Simon's gaze snaps over to him. "There will probably be a few that linger, and I'd bet there are some that are _in_ those cabins. But, for the most part, I expect the woods to be empty." 

"They do go where the people go," Maia murmurs, cocking her hip and tilting her head as she scans the maps. "So, how are we getting into the woods without alerting the zombies out front?" 

"Head out back, sneak, the usual," Magnus tells her calmly. "It's not that far to the edge of the woods, and should we get cover of the trees, we'll be fine." 

"We have everything we need. Our compasses. Clary's making maps. Flare guns in emergency situations, but _please_ do not use them unless it's absolutely necessary. If you can, get to a cabin and wait until you're clear before heading to the rendezvous point. If we're not all there within two days, we'll start the search around each cabin, so if you just _get_ to a cabin, it will be fine," Alec tells them seriously. He glances at Maia and Sebastian. "You two are new. You don't know how we work. Retreat word, what is it?" 

Sebastian and Maia share a look, rolling their eyes, then they both sigh and mutter in unison, "Idris." 

"Do _not_ try and fight if things get complicated. You run, you make it to a cabin, and someone will be there to get you soon," Alec says firmly. 

"Aye aye," Sebastian says playfully, winking at Alec and saluting him. 

No one laughs. 

"Clary, get those maps finished." Alec leans back and sighs, looking around with a frown. "Everyone else, check your supplies, then check them again, and make sure everything is prepared. I want everyone to get to the rendezvous point safe and sound, okay?" He clears his throat and straightens up. "We leave as soon as it gets dark." 

* * *

Jace has to admit that traveling through the woods in the dead of night doesn't really inspire feelings of safety. Logically, he _knows_ that this is probably the _exact_ setting where they're the safest. The likelihood of there being more zombies than they can handle is very low, plus there's next to no chance of there being groups of zombies stumbling around the woods, not when human activity is towards the city. 

Even still, it takes him a long time to relax even slightly. They have a long seven hours ahead of them, he knows this, but he doubts he'll fully come down from his paranoia the whole damn trip. In increments, however, he loosens up a little as everyone else does, especially the further they go without anything ever going wrong. 

He goes from straining his ears, to just keeping them perked. From constantly looking around the surrounding woods, to simply flicking his gaze periodically. From being alert and on edge, ready to fight at a moments notice, to easing ever so slightly, still prepared but not always one step away from pulling his blade at any _hint_ of possible danger. 

The others loosen up a great deal past the first hour when they haven't ran into any snags. Jace hangs at the back of the group, watching everyone interact with each other quietly. Simon, Jonathan, and Izzy locked into a deep discussion about something. Sebastian and Magnus appraising each other's weapons. Maia and Alec sharing a branch to pick off leaves and rip them into small pieces, quietly murmuring back and forth. Clary walks with Jace, humming softly but otherwise not saying a word. 

Strangely, it's peaceful, all things considered. 

This is how it goes for a few more hours. A steady pace, not too fast and not too slow, making progress towards the rendezvous point. Jace watches everyone rotate around, talking quietly amongst themselves, still very careful and alert but enjoying time together as well. Eventually, they've all scrambled up, and Jace finds himself walking with Alec and Izzy, listening to them talk on either side of him. Clary and Jonathan have also vested in some sibling time, while Simon and Sebastian are talking about music and Maia and Magnus are laughing quietly about something. 

"I still think--at some point--we should find the time after this to go back and raid the library," Izzy tells Alec seriously. "Even if only for the beanbag chairs alone. I mean it, they work _wonders_ on the back." 

Alec snorts. "We'll see how this goes. I'll admit that it had some nice accommodations. If we can get a truck out there, we might be able to work with it." 

"It's going to be fine," Izzy insists, apparently firmly in the corner of this going smoothly. "We're going to get in there unscathed, find the cure, and then we'll start turning things around." 

"How?" Jace finds himself asking, making his adopted siblings look over at him in surprise. "I just mean, how are we going to spread this cure around? What if it needs to be made?" 

Izzy gets a determined set to her mouth. "Then we learn to make it, or we find someone who can. Mom and Luke could probably help." 

"We should have been gentler on them," Alec murmurs, sounding truly regretful. "They must be worried sick right about now." 

Jace frowns, still frustrated. "Okay, say we find this cure, and what if it's already made? What if it's only enough for a few people?" 

"We give it to the kids," Izzy says, like this is obvious, which to be fair...it _is_ pretty obvious.

"Okay, yeah, that's fair. But...say we get lucky and the cure is bountiful, how are we going to get it to everyone else in the world?" Jace insists. 

"Through radio," Alec says easily. "People will hear about it, they'll learn." 

"And what?" Jace throws a look between them, one so scathing they both frown. "We just make them risk their lives and travel for it? Come to us? Or do we risk _our_ lives to get it to them? What about the people out of the state? Out of the country?" 

"Okay, so this is a project," Izzy snaps, staring at him with a scowl, no doubt not enjoying that he's asking the hard questions. "Look, you know this isn't going to be easy no matter how the cure works, if we even find it to begin with. But we have to try, even if we can only save our own people, then that's what we do. Why are you being so cynical all of a sudden?" 

"I'm not being _cynical,"_ Jace mutters, huffing and crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm just being realistic. I don't want anyone to think that this cure means all of our problems go away." 

Alec sighs. "Jace, I don't think anyone needs the reminder that our problems are plentiful." 

"Right," Jace murmurs, suddenly feeling guilty for souring the mood, "sorry."

Izzy smiles at him and leans into his side, reaching out to rub his arm. "We're taking it one step at a time, remember? Simon says we should enjoy the ride rather than focus solely on the destination." 

"I think Simon sometimes forgets that we're in the middle of a zombie apocalypse," Jace says dryly, even as the corners of his mouth curl up fondly against his will, something warm squirming in his chest. 

Alec huffs a short laugh. "Pretty sure it's a metaphor, Jace. Like, how you're too busy looking at the big picture to enjoy the details." 

Jace arches an eyebrow at him. "That metaphor was all you," he mutters flatly. 

"Might've picked it up somewhere," Alec says airily. 

"Hypocrite," Jace says, coughing once in his fist, his lips curling up into a smirk. 

"The _point_ is," Izzy cuts in, rolling her eyes and smiling at them, "we're making progress, slowly but surely. I mean, think about it, just a few days ago we were still at the Institute. _Now,_ we're nearly halfway into our little journey. Look how far we've come." 

"You've been spending too much time with Simon," Jace tells her in faint amusement. 

Izzy chuckles warmly. "You say that like it's a bad thing. You should try it, you know. Simon's a great source of optimism, like how you drink orange juice for vitamin D. He does the body good," she informs him rather seriously, eyeing him in good humor. "Probably yours, especially. You could use the boost of optimism, you know." 

Jace opens his mouth, then slowly closes it, slightly mortified to find color flooding his cheeks. In the dark, his siblings shouldn't notice it, but he still ducks his head in a knee-jerk attempt to hide it. Simon had, in fact, done his body _very_ good. 

"Simon can take his optimism _far_ away from me," Alec mutters, utterly oblivious to Jace's little moment. "I'm glad he keeps everyone in high spirits, but it's annoying as fuck." 

There is something grating about Simon's insistence on being positive in the midst of an overly bleak world, but unlike Alec, Jace finds himself drawn to it, rather than put off by it. He's like a moth drawn to a flame--his realism ensures that the positivity will just burn him later, but over and over, he keeps going towards the bright light that is Simon. And god, after the library, it's like he's reached the point that he'd bathe himself in the flames without feeling any of the heat until it's far too late to get away. 

"It'd be good for you to spend time with him too, you know," Izzy tells Alec. "You're always so serious." 

Alec rolls his eyes. "Well, someone has to--" 

It doesn't happen in slow motion, because this is real life and they're not afforded the reprieve of time. It happens too fast, almost so fast that it takes way too long for Jace's mind to wrap around what exactly is going on right now. The split second in which Alec stops talking gapes far and wide in Jace's mind, even though it's a chain of events that never really stops once it gets started. 

There's a series of solid thumps all around them, and they don't even have a moment to prepare. Zombies fall from the trees, landing steady on their feet and _immediately_ launching at whomever is closest with loud hisses and roars. Jace yanks his blade out and shoves Izzy bodily out of the way as a...zombie--definitely that, but different?--goes sailing towards her with snapping teeth. 

These zombies are not like _normal_ zombies. They're not as rotted as the others, their skin not gray but nearly pasty white, black veins sticking out starkly. Rather than having a dull glaze over their eyes, the same color as the person's before disease with an opaque sheen over it, these zombie's eyes are fully black. There's nothing stumbling about their gate, and they're much faster than a normal zombie. 

He can already tell by just struggling against one zombie that this isn't a fight that anyone can win. This sentiment is echoed by people around them screaming _run_ at the top of their lungs, calling out _Idris_ and shouting indistinctly. Jace just manages to get his blade through the zombie's throat, grunting as he snatches the blade to the side and severs the head with great difficulty. 

Jace stumbles back, gasping as he looks around with wide eyes, barely breathing as he tries to see where everyone is in the chaos. Alec and Izzy have already left his side, barely visible through the crawling limbs of the zombies that are flooding the area. He can see Magnus, briefly, and make out Sebastian's head in a break from the crowd of undead. 

"Go!" Alec screams, his loud order not allowing any room for argument. "Go, now!" 

"Jace, Jace, we have to go!" Jonathan is suddenly right beside him, eyes wide as he yanks on his arm, tugging him forcefully. "We need to--" 

"Simon!" Jace calls out, heart nearly stopping in his chest at the sight of Simon landing on the ground hard across the clearing, scrambling back with wide eyes full of fear. "S--" 

Jonathan digs his fingers in and _pulls,_ making Jace nearly fall on his ass. "Jace, _now!"_

Jace is about to protest, but a zombie suddenly whirls around and starts for them, three more immediately joining the first. Heart slamming in his chest, he lets himself be yanked to his feet and shoved into a run. He gets in a deep breath of air before he starts booking it, Jonathan a few paces in front of him, their legs pumping them far and fast. They take wild turns and don't stop, gaining ground and outrunning the zombies with ease--they may be faster than the average zombie, but not faster than humans. 

It feels like they've ran for hours at full speed, not slowing down, but they still don't stop for a long time. They run so far and fast that the only thing they can hear is the sound of their own panting and the crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot. When they finally come to a stop, it's because Jace's lungs are about to burst and Jonathan needs to find somewhere to rest for a moment. In the dark, everything is suddenly still and quiet like things hadn't erupted into chaos back there. 

Jonathan leans up against a tree, panting heavily and grimacing as he kicks his shoe off, staring down at his foot with a wince. He bends down to rub at his ankle, breathing heavily as they take a moment. 

"What happened?" Jace wheezes when he can finally manage a few words. 

Jonathan looks over at him, carefully rubbing at his foot. "Pretty sure I rolled my ankle. Nothing too serious. I'll be fine."

"You can walk?" Jace checks. 

"Yeah, and if my life is on the line, I'll be able to run," Jonathan replies with a weak smile. 

Jace is suddenly alert, his heart dropping in his chest as he straightens up. "I have to go back. Jonathan, I need to--" 

"Woah," Jonathan says warily, swiftly slipping back into his shoe and limping towards Jace with his hands raised in surrender. "Uh, going back there is the last thing we need to do. Right now, we have to get to the rendezvous point." 

"Simon, he...he was--something happened," Jace explains frantically, pushing away from the tree he's leaning against. "He's not going to make it, not by himself. I--I have to go back and--"

"Hey, hey, stop it." Jonathan finally reaches him with a furrow in his eyebrows, putting his hands on Jace's shoulders and making him go still. "Look, there's no flare, right? If he, or anyone else, was in serious trouble, there would be a flare. Going back there is pointless; everyone will be going to a cabin or the rendezvous point. I'm sure he's fine." 

"You didn't see--you don't know…" Jace trails off, swallowing thickly and shoving his hand through his hair, panic gripping his heart. "He's going to--he won't be able to...and I should have--" 

Jonathan frowns at him. "Okay, stop it. Just, stop thinking about it, Jace. Until we know any different, everyone is _fine._ The plan is to head to the rendezvous point and make it there safely. That's the plan, remember? Let's just--let's focus on that right now. Get your map." 

Jace stares at him blankly, not entirely sure how Jonathan expects him to just _keep going,_ like Simon wasn't in trouble back there. He has to go back, he _has to._ Except, he can't. Because Jonathan is right. They have mission, and going back _towards_ the zombies will only succeed in getting him killed, as well as Jonathan--if Jace insisted on going back, he'd insist on going with him, Jace knows that. 

He stands frozen, feeling as if he's being ripped in half. He needs to go back and make sure Simon is okay, that he's alive, that all of Jace's worries haven't come true so soon. But he also has stick to the plan, because that's how they make it alive, all of them, and he has to get Jonathan--now with a rolled ankle--to the main cabin safely while traversing zombie-infested woods, and not with just _any_ type of zombies, but some kind of...upgraded undead? 

"The map, Jace," Jonathan says firmly, soothingly, no doubt seeing the indecision on Jace's face. 

Throat sticking, Jace shakily grabs for his map, chest feeling like it's crumbling in on itself. To distract himself, he mutters, "Those zombies, they were…" 

"Different," Jonathan confirms. "Faster, for sure. Enhanced, maybe? But how?" 

"I don't know," Jace murmurs, carefully opening up his map and fiddling for his compass. 

"We're, what, four hours in, at least?" Jonathan asks with a sigh. "That's probably three more hours until we reach the cabin. We'll get there a couple of hours before dawn, I think." 

"North is that way," Jace says, pointing towards his left with a small frown. He squints at the dot that Clary had left to indicate the main cabin. "There's a stream parallel to the route to the rendezvous point. If we can find that and head North, you're right, we'll make it before dawn." 

"God, I miss GPS," Jonathan mutters, reaching around with his gangly arms to pull out a water bottle, throwing Jace a careful look. "We find this stream and we go. The rest will come. They will." 

"He fell," Jace croaks, fingers spasming around the water bottle that Jonathan passes to him, making it crinkle in his hands. "Jonathan, he fell, and I--" 

Clenching his jaw, Jace looks away, eyes falling shut as his mind shows him the image all over again. Simon falling to the ground, his face contorting with fear, legs pushing him frantically backwards in obvious panic until his back hit a tree, a zombie advancing on him. And then what? Did he-- 

"Simon is the fastest one out of all of us," Jonathan says gently, reaching out to squeeze Jace's arm, smiling when Jace opens his eyes. "Knowing him, he'll beat everyone to the main cabin." 

It's stupid, _stupid_ hope. He knows better than to fall into that trap. Prepare for the worst, always, because the best so rarely happens. Even still, he can't help the desperate desire to believe that Simon will be fine, that he'll be waiting at the cabin when they get there. It's a flimsy dream, one built on the lack of realism and _solely_ on optimism, but Jace allows himself to think it anyway. 

It will hurt later, when it's not true, but he isn't ready to face the facts yet. 

"Come on," Jace mumbles, reaching out to give Jonathan the water, snagging his arm and pulling it over his own shoulders, ignoring Jonathan's protests all the while. "Shut up. We'll still make good time, and I'm not above carrying you on my back. We have to keep your weight off your foot, at least until Magnus can look at it." 

"I'm _fine,"_ Jonathan mutters with a huff. 

Jace doesn't let his arm go. "Yeah, maybe, but you're also stuck with me, so we're doing this my way. Shut up and drink your water. Stay alert. We've got a long way to go." 

Jonathan grumbles under his breath, Jace holds most of his weight, and they set off. It is a long way to go, and Jace knows he'll spend most of it wondering if everyone is okay, if Simon is. Over and over, his mind loops back to that kiss that he'd told himself wasn't goodbye, a blatant lie. 

He thinks, now, that he should have kissed Simon for longer, held on for longer, maybe never let him go. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did y'all like how my chapters progressively got longer? 😂 I am proud to say that I kept them under or around 5k, except for the last one, in which I let loose. The curse of a writer--thinking something will be short, then watching it grow longer over time. Help me. 
> 
> A Malec moodboard this week, folks, and you'll see why in this chapter ;) Go check it out on my tumblr: 
> 
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> Enjoy!

The main cabin comes into view some hours later, two stories with a wrap around porch on the upper level. This isn't just any regular log cabin--it's obviously _very_ expensive and meant to house large groups at one time. Jace figures it's owned by the lab, just based on how well preserved it is. 

There are two bodies sprawled out on the ground, very clearly zombies, and--by the look of them--the advanced kind, too. His heart jumps in his chest as he passes them, glancing down as he helps Jonathan hobble towards the door. The wounds are fresh, _very_ fresh. That means there are people here. 

"Let me go, I can walk," Jonathan insists as they approach the steps, huffing when Jace's hand grips his harder. "Seriously, you carried me the whole way here, let me just--" 

Jace leans Jonathan up against the railing on the steps, pulling out his blade and blatantly ignoring him. "Stay here," he says firmly. 

Jonathan makes another disgruntled sound that Jace doesn't really pay attention to, already focused on the next step as he pushes his way into the cabin. Someone _is_ here, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's his people. If things go wrong, he doesn't want Jonathan in the cross-fire. 

There's another body in the entrance hall, this one with a gaping hole in its temple, still gushing black blood. _Very_ recent. 

On high-alert, tense and wary, Jace steps into the foyer with his blade at the ready. Only to come to a halt as all of his held breath leaves him in a great _whoosh_ of air. As soon as Clary and Maia see that it's him, their shoulders droop and they lower their guns, faces lighting up with relieved grins. 

"Oh, it's just them," Jonathan says cheerfully, from right behind Jace. 

"I _told_ you to stay outside," Jace hisses, reaching out to grab Jonathan's arm as he limps closer. As Clary and Maia drift forward, he shoots them a look and jerks his chin at Jonathan. "He fucked up his ankle. He needs Magnus, and to sit down, and some rest. Is this place secure? Any others here?" 

Clary nods, then shakes her head. "We just finished a sweep. Three of those...weird zombies. They're harder to kill, but they go down just like the others. We're the first ones here. Did anyone else come with you two at all?" 

"It's just us," Jonathan says with a weary smile, releasing a soft sigh as he lets Clary move forward and lead him over to a surprisingly well-maintained loveseat in the living room. "I'm sure the others will turn up soon." 

"How'd you hurt your ankle?" Maia asks, following Clary and Jonathan after sharing a grim look with Jace. She crouches down in front of Jonathan and frowns at him. "Can I take a look at it?" 

Jonathan dutifully reaches down to take his shoe off, waving Clary off. "I'm pretty sure I just rolled it. Jace basically carried me the whole way here, so I haven't been putting my weight on it." 

"You have medical experience?" Jace asks cautiously, moving his way into the room to pace around it, looking out the windows into the surrounding darkness with a frown. 

No one else is here, just them. His relief that Clary and Maia are okay is shadowed by his worry for everyone else, for Simon, for Magnus, for Sebastian, for his siblings. They could be anywhere out there right now, in danger or trapped. Unbidden, the image of a zombie advancing on a vulnerable Simon flashes through his mind once more. 

He tries to banish it and fails. 

"Not much," Maia admits, flashing him a tight smile before gingerly reaching down to grasp Jonathan's foot and look at it under the beam of the flashlight Clary helpfully provides. "But I used to run track in high school, so I know a thing or two about ankles. And yeah, it looks like he rolled it. Just some swelling. Here, can you move it?" 

"A little," Jonathan says, wincing as he carefully pushes his foot one way then the other. 

Maia hums and stands. "Leave it without the shoe for a while and don't stand on it. We don't really have anything cold, but keep it elevated. When Magnus gets here, he'll be able to wrap it." 

Jonathan nods simply and swings himself to the side, sprawling out on the couch and lifting his leg to let Clary stack dusty pillows for him to rest it on. He sighs and closes his eyes, most of the pain smoothing out of his face as he gets comfortable. 

"Those zombies…" Clary murmurs, throwing her gaze towards the body still laid out right in front of the entrance. "Jace, they're not--they're _different."_

"Yeah, I noticed that." Jace frowns and pushes away from the window, heading towards the corpse with Clary following him. "It was an organized attack. Falling from the trees wasn't an _accident,_ and they're more coordinated than your average zombie." 

Clary hums, hovering beside Jace as he crouches down to examine the zombie with a frown. "Looks different, too. Fully black eyes, paler skin, not as much decay. They also didn't seem to have _any_ problems seeing us at night." 

"I've never heard of a different _type_ of zombie," Jace mutters, reaching out to carefully peel open the eyes, lift the lips to look at the teeth, tilt the head to examine the veins. "This is the first I've seen of it, and only out here. Why?" 

"Maybe they evolve in different conditions?" Clary suggests warily. "It's always shady in the woods, so maybe they had to adjust. Colder out here, too, so maybe decay was...slowed down? They're not sentient, that much is for sure--just as mindless and starving as the others. But they must have some instincts if they thought to climb trees and attack from above." 

Jace frowns and pushes to his feet. "Evolution doesn't work that quickly, but maybe. I just don't understand why they didn't _leave_ the woods. They have to be starving out here." 

Clary shrugs helplessly. "I don't know." 

"Alright, let's just get everything settled. Get some food, set up some places to rest, go over supplies. The usual," Jace says wearily. 

"Hey," Clary whispers, stepping up close to him, looking up into his eyes, "is--is everything okay? I mean, obviously things aren't--" 

"It's fine," Jace cuts her off quickly, firmly, not willing to tell her that her best friend had looked to be in a _very_ precarious situation the last he saw him. 

Clary reaches out to carefully touch his wrist, going slow like she expects him to snatch away, her eyes softening when he doesn't. "It's going to be okay. Everyone will be fine, Jace. And--and thank you for taking care of Jonathan." 

"You don't have to thank me," Jace mumbles, "I'd do it for any one of you, regardless." 

"I know," Clary says softly, smiling at him gently, "that's _why_ I'm thanking you." 

* * *

They regroup, just the four of them. It's a joint effort between Jace, Maia, and Clary to form the living room into a proper defense with multiple exit routes in case of emergency. They drag mattresses--enough for everyone--into the living room and eat together, Jonathan still kicked back on the couch. 

After that, there's nothing left to do but wait. 

Jace _hates_ the waiting. Every minute that ticks by is another minute that his family could be in danger. That he could be out there searching. That he's possibly failing to save their lives. 

It eats at him, niggling at his mind, making him restless and frustrated. He's not good at this part, never is, though he forces himself to follow the plans. He paces, he checks on the others, he paces some more. He tries not to let the worry steal over him, tries not to let it invade his mind, but it's a battle he knows he's not going to win. 

Before long, his thoughts have been rendered to one continuous loop of mind-numbing concern. Dread gnaws at his gut, making him feel nauseous, his head throbbing with stress. Everything within him _begs_ him to go out there, to find everyone and get them here safe, to risk his own life to ensure that they get to live theirs. He knows, realistically, that he wouldn't be able to find them and would most likely end up injured or turned if he tried, but rationality isn't very loud against internal panic. 

His mind is a cruel bastard. It conjures up images and forces him to watch scenes play out that makes him feel sick with horror. Izzy, stumbling around with raspy hisses and a chunk missing from her neck. Alec, torn to pieces, screaming as the zombies feast. Sebastian having to be buried, Raphael finding out about it, Maia breaking her strong facade and sobbing as she throws dirt on his grave. Magnus, lost somewhere, turning on his own and lost to the disease, having to be killed. 

Simon...attacked right there against that tree with Jace just across the clearing, running away instead of helping him, dying after--

After everything. 

Jace leans against a wall behind the others, slowly sliding down to plop on his ass. He puts his head in his hands. He breathes. That's it, that's all he can do, just breathe and wait and torture himself with possibilities. Every inhale feels like a disrespect to the images of the people he's fearing that he's lost, and every exhale hurts on its way out. 

Ten minutes pass. Nothing. 

A half an hour. Jonathan is sleeping, his head on Clary's lap as she strokes his hair. Nothing. 

An hour. Maia is pacing now, restless, going to the door to peer out into the darkness. Her fists are clenched. Clary just stares down at Jonathan, won't look up, like she's afraid that she'll have to face the fact that no one else is here if she does. _Nothing._

Then...something. 

Jace launches to his feet when he hears boots out on the steps, pulling his blade. Clary and Maia mimic him, Jonathan grunting as he sits up, scrambling to lift his blade and blink around blearily. The door creaks open, and Jace holds his breath, hoping, _daring to hope._

The sight of an arrow docked into a bow comes around the corner first, and Jace feels the rush of relief as the tattoos on Alec's arms become visible. He swiftly shifts around the corner, on alert, only to relax when he sees them. He releases a soft sigh and stands up, stepping into the room. 

"Alec," Jace breathes out, his shoulders loosening as he moves forward to grip him in a tight hug, which seems to surprise everyone. But he doesn't care about his aversion to touch--this is _serious,_ and he's just thankful that Alec is alive. He pulls back after a moment to look up into his eyes. "You're okay. You're not hurt, right? Is anyone else with you?" 

Alec squeezes Jace's shoulder. "Just--" 

"Me," Sebastian says smoothly, his charming smile in place as he winks and slips beside them to wiggle his way into the room. It seems that his shoulders relax as soon as he sees Maia and Clary. "Oh, love…" 

Jace glances back to see why Sebastian's tone has softened considerably, only to blink rapidly at the sight of Clary standing tall, her jaw clenched, hands pulled into tight fists. Maia, unlike Clary, doesn't seem to be in any mood to hide her relief as she marches forward to, first, grip Sebastian into a tight hug not unlike the one Jace gave Alec, and second, pull away to punch him in the shoulder. 

"Don't _ever_ scare me like that again?" Maia snaps, sounding truly angry, even if her eyes are soft. "God, you're a fucking asshole."

Sebastian grins. "Ah, I love you, too." His smile softens and he looks over at Clary again. "Come, now, don't tell me you were actually worried about me, love. I'm fine, see? Alive and well, I assure you." 

Clary swallows thickly and shakes her head, taking in a deep breath that almost immediately punches out of her. She wraps her arms around herself and stares at Sebastian with twisted lips. "You're not funny," she mutters in a croak. "You're really not." 

"I know, I know," Sebastian says gently, approaching her like he would a rabid animal. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't--just...don't _do_ that again," Clary whispers harshly, glaring at him. "You were--you stood between me and Maia, and then you were just _gone._ Never do that, do you understand?" 

Jace's heart twists violently in his chest as he realizes that Clary and Maia have been dealing with their own worry. He now knows why Clary is so strung tight, looking like she'll shatter if she even tried to relax. She's about as good as Jace is with dealing with her panic, so she must have been torturing herself this entire time, too. 

"Well, Alec here seemed to be having some trouble with a zombie," Sebastian says easily, looking over his shoulder to share a smile with Alec, who actually smiles back. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't having all the fun." 

"He saved my life," Alec murmurs, nodding at Jace when his eyebrows fly up. 

"See?" Sebastian inches closer to Clary, his hands twitching at his sides like he wants to reach out and touch. He smiles prettily at her. "That's forgivable, is it not? I promise I was following you. You know I'd follow you anywhere, right, love?" 

Clary takes in a shuddering breath, blinking rapidly and clearing her throat. "You sure took your fucking time," she mutters. "Be faster, next time." 

"If I have my way," Sebastian says smoothly, "there won't be a next time. I have no plans to leave your side again, Clary. Now, I've earned a hug, haven't I? For not dying, yes?" 

"No," Clary mumbles sullenly, sighing when Sebastian dutifully comes to a halt and takes a step back, respecting her refusal. She scowls at him. "You really are an asshole." 

With that, she moves forward and slams into him, ducking her head and burying it in his chest, all the tension seeming to seep out of her frame at once. Sebastian's entire face brightens, eyes widening with delight, and he lifts his arms to wrap them around her, one hand stroking her hair. He hooks his chin on the top of her head and holds her for longer than any hug calls for--more of an embrace at this point. 

Jace shares a look with Alec, their smiles small and tinged with sadness. 

"For not dying," Clary grits out as she pulls away, clearing her throat and marching over to give Alec a much quicker hug, like that proves her point. 

Alec awkwardly pats her shoulder. "Alright," he says as she backs off, "is anyone else here?" 

"No," Jace murmurs, averting his eyes. "It's just us." 

"It'll be dawn soon," Alec says with a frown, releasing a slow breath. "The others must be at the other cabins. I'm sure they'll turn up by tomorrow." 

"Right," Jonathan agrees heartily. 

Alec glances at him. "What happened to you?" 

Before long, Sebastian and Alec are being caught up on everything from the theories on the new zombies to the other's journey to here. After that, they have nothing else to do but wait. 

Again. 

* * *

Just as the sky starts to lighten outside, only barely, there's another brief reprieve from the constant worry that hangs over everyone. They've all fallen silent once more, right back to fretting for the remaining three that have yet to make it back. 

They all hear it when there's a solid thump from outside, but before they can react, Izzy comes barreling into the room with wide eyes. Her chest is heaving, clothes torn and covered with dirt. Her makeup is smudged, hair a mess, and both of her heels have been removed, leaving her feet a scratched and muddy mess of blood and grime. 

"Jesus," Maia breathes out. 

Izzy drops her heels and flaps her hand. "No time. It's--Alec, it's Magnus." 

"No," Alec replies immediately, his voice wavering and cracking on the end. He shakes his head in denial and steps back. "No, it's not. No. He's--" 

"No, no, he's not bitten," Izzy says urgently, moving backwards towards the door. "He got slammed down on his lance, and he has a pretty bad scrape on his side. I can't carry him in here on my own. _Help me!"_

Alec is instantly moving, practically sprinting to the door, and Jace is immediately on his heels. Magnus is sat on the steps, as much of a mess as Izzy is, one hand cradling his side. He's covered in blood and sweat, face twisted into a grimace, but as soon as Alec comes skidding out the door, he smiles weakly. 

"Hi, darling," he greets, giving a faint wave with his other hand. "Oh, don't look like that, I'm _fine."_

Alec releases a shaky breath and carefully kneels down beside Magnus, his hands trembling as he flutters them over Magnus without ever touching him, seemingly afraid to. They stare at each other for a moment, and Alec gulps. 

"What do I--Magnus, tell me what to do," Alec whispers, eyes flicking over him, face paling as he takes in the blood. "How do I--how can I…" 

Magnus tries to push himself up, only getting about halfway before he cringes and makes little _ah, ah, ah_ noises and sinks down again. "I'm fine, I really am," he insists when Alec makes a distressed sound. "Just help me inside, would you? Jace, you as well. I have some stuff in my bag." 

"Okay, yeah, okay," Alec mutters, apparently trying to reassure himself. "We're going to fix you and it's going to be fine. It's going to be--" 

"Alec," Jace says firmly, making him snap out of it and actually _help_ carry Magnus in. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Alec whispers as they heft Magnus up, which makes him grunt in pain. "God, I'm so fucking sorry." 

The others have cleared off a mattress, and Izzy--the one who'd been carrying Magnus' bag--kneels beside it and starts pulling out anything that could be of use in this situation. Maia seems to be trying to clean her feet all at the same time, but Izzy doesn't really seem to notice. 

"Bring him here," Izzy orders firmly, snatching a pillow from Clary that she and Sebastian had been doing their best to wipe free of dirt. 

Through gritted teeth, once he's lowered as gently as possible to the mattress, Magnus mutters, "Izzy, my dear, please quit worrying. I am--" 

"If you say you're fine _one more time,"_ Izzy snaps, frantically pulling at the rags from the bag, "I will personally stab you when you get better."

"Isabelle," Magnus says softly. 

"No," Izzy hisses fiercely, "I carried you here, Magnus. I'm--you're _not_ fine, not yet. So--so just lay back and...and tell me what to do." 

Magnus huffs a little laugh. "Yes, yes, alright."

"Alec, get his shirt off," Izzy orders, sticking a pack of bandages in her mouth and ripping it open with her teeth. When Alec gapes at her, freezing in place, she glares at him. "Now, Alec!" 

"Right, right," Alec chokes out, all leader abilities going out the window when met with his panic for Magnus, apparently. 

"Jace," Magnus says conversationally, "you're going to have to hold me down." 

"What?" Jace says flatly. "I'm not doing that." 

"I'll need to be still so I won't restart the blood flow," Magnus tells him gently. "You and Sebastian will need to keep me that way." 

Jace swallows thickly and shares a wary look with Sebastian, but after a moment, they both move into position. Alec is very gingerly peeling Magnus' shirt away from his wound, tacky with dark stains of blood, flinching every time Magnus hisses in a sharp breath from the pain. Izzy makes a noise that sounds nothing short of a growl of impatience. 

"Maia, leave my feet alone and come do this for Alec," Izzy mutters, frowning as she fumbles with something else in Magnus' bag. After a moment, she holds out a pair of scissors to Maia. "Cut it off of him if you have to." 

Maia, unlike Alec, works without hesitance. She makes quick work of Magnus' shirt, not stopping when he grimaces. Alec continues to flinch every time, fingers digging into the mattress as he kneels beside Magnus and simply _looks_ at him. 

"I'm fine," Magnus says yet again once his wound is on display. He glances down at it with calculating eyes, then sighs. "Right. Well, the good news is that there are no signs of an infection and it's not that deep. It should heal just fine." 

"The bad news?" Alec asks in a rasp, seeming to hold his breath, openly worried. 

Magnus chuckles croakily. "Izzy's going to have to clean it and dress it, which will, frankly, hurt like a motherfucker." 

"Shit," Alec says weakly. "Can I--is there anything I can do to...to help? I'm--" 

"You know, everyone says--and there's songs about this as well--that a kiss can take the pain away," Magnus says cheekily, still fucking _flirting_ like he's not about to go through some serious agony. 

Jace rolls his eyes and gets ready to hold Magnus down, only to freeze as everyone goes still. Because, see, Alec hasn't fumbled through an excuse or a refusal, and he's just _looking_ at Magnus, still. The smile drains off Magnus' face, and he blinks. 

Then, just like that, Alec reaches out to cup Magnus' cheeks and lean down over him, pressing his lips to Magnus' with a sigh. Jace blinks rapidly, genuinely fucking _stunned_ that Alec is actually doing it. Apparently, when faced with the possibility of Magnus being in pain, Alec's just willing to throw away every single reason he's ever kept him at a distance. The kiss is sweet in its entirety, slow and careful, and Magnus lifts one bloody hand to grip Alec's wrist like he's worried he might pull away. But that seems like the _last_ thing Alec wants to do. 

"I _really_ hate to stop this, you have no _idea,_ but I need to do this," Izzy says, sounding truly pained about having to break this up. 

Magnus blinks rapidly when Alec slowly draws away, his lips parted in awe. "I didn't actually think that would work," he admits in a rasp. 

Alec swallows thickly and pulls his shaking hands back, watching Magnus fondly. "I thought you were--I was scared that you'd died. You're alive, but you're...you know, hurt. And I just… I don't think there's anything I wouldn't give you right now." 

"In that case," Magnus murmurs, his lips curling up and his eyes dancing with joy, "may I have your hand to hold?" 

"Yeah," Alec replies immediately, letting their fingers clasp together, "take what you need." 

Magnus carefully exhales and fixes his gaze to Izzy, nodding. "Clean it, just like I told you. When you dress it, be sure that it's tight." 

Izzy nods and swallows, taking a deep breath before flicking her gaze between Jace and Sebastian. "Keep him still," she says firmly. 

With that, she begins. 

It's not...pretty. In fact, it's downright fucking horrible. Clary ends up having to shove a folded rag in his mouth for Magnus to bite down on, muffling his shouts as Izzy works dutifully. They all wear grimaces, but Jace holds Magnus firmly into place, while Sebastian does the same. Alec murmurs words of comfort, looking so fucking _hurt_ like nothing tears him up worse than Magnus being in pain. 

Jace forces himself to watch, to take note of how it's done. He studies how Izzy cleans the wound, then uses alcohol on it, then dresses it. There's so much _blood,_ but towards the end, everything starts to look a little better--the blood stops, the wound is cleaned, and then it's covered. Izzy releases a shaky sigh and sits back on her haunches when she's finished, and Magnus groans as he relaxes back into the mattress. Alec still holds his hand, his other carefully smoothing the hair off his sweaty forehead. 

"See?" Magnus mumbles with a shaky smile when Clary removes the rag from his mouth. "I told you I was _fine."_

Maia starts pushing at Izzy, a wrinkle of worry between her eyebrows. "Now, you. Let me take care of your feet."

Izzy huffs a small laugh and lets herself be pushed back. "Kinky."

"Ha!" Maia barks a laugh and winks at Izzy, reaching out to draw Izzy's feet gingerly into her lap. "No foot fetish that I know about. Although, you do have very nice feet. Under all this shit, I mean. Jesus, it looks like you've been--" 

"Running through the woods for hours with no shoes on?" Izzy suggests dryly. 

"Yeah, that," Maia says with a snort. She wiggles her fingers for a clean rag and the alcohol. "This is going to hurt. Reach back there for Jonathan's hand." 

Izzy does, looking over her shoulder to smile at Jonathan. She blinks. "What happened to _your_ foot?" 

"Rolled my ankle," Jonathan says, cupping her hand in both of his, smiling at her. "You look like shit, muffin." 

"Still hot," Maia assures her. 

Izzy chuckles. "Yeah, well--ah, _shit!"_

"Sorry, sorry," Maia mumbles, grimacing as she starts wiping at Izzy's feet. 

Clary clears her throat. "Sebastian, there should be some kind of bins here somewhere. Help me look for them. We're going to the stream to get some water. We need more than what we have in bottles, and Magnus and Izzy need to get cleaned up. Well, honestly, we all do." 

"Alec?" Sebastian murmurs, looking over at him for guidance. "Are we clear to go?" 

Alec looks up from where he's been staring at Magnus, who is slowly drifting off to sleep. "Yeah, that's fine. The stream isn't too far. First sign of danger, drop everything and run back here." 

Sebastian nods and pushes to his feet, following Clary to go off in search of something to hold a large amount of water. 

Jace stares around at everyone, heart clenching in his chest. Eight out of nine, three of which are injured but not _too_ terribly. There's still that last one. _Simon._ He's alone. He's out there alone and he's--

"Is Simon here?" Izzy asks through clenched teeth, her eyes darting around the room. 

Things go deathly quiet, and Clary stops right in the middle of the room with Sebastian behind her, a large plastic bin in their hands. Everyone goes still, and even Magnus' eyes snap open. For a long moment, no one even breathes, and Izzy's face crumbles as she no doubt regrets even _asking._

"He'll be here," Jonathan says firmly, throwing Jace a cautious look. "He will. I'm sure he'll come running through the door within the next hour." 

No one says anything, no one disagrees, and no one echoes the sentiments. They all just stay there, suspended in the moment. Jace closes his eyes and shoves his face into his hands, his chest feeling like it's caving in on itself. This can't be happening. It just fucking _can't_ be. 

But it is. 

Because, later, an hour passes and Simon doesn't show up. More and more time slips by. Magnus and Izzy get cleaned up and changed. They eat again. The sun beams in through the cracks in the windows. Jace sits very still and tries to breathe normally, not looking at anyone, his gaze locked on the door. 

Simon doesn't come. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, but I've been updating my other stories and bouncing around all over the place. Rest assured, I'll still be updating this one every couple of days! 
> 
> This week's moodboard is a Clary Moodboard, go check it out on my tumblr: 
> 
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> With that, enjoy ;)

Simon turns around slowly, cracked lips stretching into a large smile, blood dripping down his teeth. Black veins snake under his pale skin, brown eyes nothing but a black abyss now. His head clicks as he tilts it, stumbling forward with a hiss, as awkward in death as he was in life, but infinitely more terrifying. He goes fumbling for Jace, still smiling that macabre grin, his chin and throat covered in blood. 

Simon opens his mouth and rasps, "Do you regret it yet, Jace? Do you, do you, do you?" 

"Simon," Jace chokes out, stumbling back a few steps, heart racing in his chest. "No, no, this isn't--this can't be happening." 

"Oh, but it is," Simon replies, his words echoing around Jace, voice hollow and cracking. "I'm dead now, I'm dead, dead-y dead _dead!"_ He releases a roar of laughter, body disjointed as he moves forward a few creaking steps. "Do you regret it yet? Do you regret me, Jace? Do you, do you, _DO YOU?!"_

Jace lets out a hoarse shout, pure fucking _terror_ slamming into him as Simon's head clicks to the other side. It twists all the way around, popping off Simon's neck and rolling down his arm, landing face-up in his palm, still smiling. The headless creature moves forward, holding Simon's head out. 

"Oh my god," Jace whispers, horrified. "Oh my--" 

"You know what you have to do, I know you know, we _both_ know," Simon growls out, his head floating closer as his body keeps stumbling forward. 

Jace tries to move back, but he's pressed up against the tree. He lifts his hand to shield his face and finds his fingers wrapped around a dagger that gleams in the moonlight. He stares at it in horror as Simon's head comes too close, face mere inches from Jace's, blood dripping through his fingers. 

"No," Jace says, his voice so quiet and breathless that he can barely hear himself. Stronger, he says, "No. _No,_ Simon, no, I won't--" 

Simon's teeth have a sheen of blood over them, eyes black and empty. "Do it, Jace. You have to regret it by now, you _have_ to. Do it! Jace, do it. Jace, Jace, Jace--" 

"--Jace! _Jace!"_ Clary shouts, shaking roughly at his shoulder with wide eyes. 

Surging forward with a gasp, Jace stumbles to his feet, shoving her backwards as he stares around dazedly. Just a dream. Just a fucking _dream._ But, god, it had been _so vivid._ He can see it clear as day right now, and he feels like he's about to be sick. 

When he takes in the others in the room, all staring at him with wide, horrified eyes, he comes scarily close to being sick anyway. 

"Jace," Clary says gently, "it was just a nightmare." 

"I know," Jace whispers back hoarsely, panting and tipping his head back as his heart attempts to settle itself. "I know that. Just a--just a nightmare."

"Simon's going to be fine," Jonathan mumbles warily, with less certainty than usual. 

"Stop _saying_ that," Jace snaps fiercely, dropping his head to glare at Jonathan. "You don't fucking know that! You didn't see it, see _him._ He--he fell, and I saw it, and I _left_ him there! I fucking--" 

"Hey, _stop,"_ Alec interrupts firmly, shooting to his feet to pace closer to Jace. "If Simon hasn't returned by nightfall, we will go _get_ him. There wasn't a flare. Jace, there wasn't a flare." 

"That doesn't mean shit," Jace says sharply, grinding his teeth and looking around for his leather jacket, heart racing in his chest. "He could have been dead before he even _thought_ to reach for his flare." 

"Jace!" Izzy shouts scoldingly, eyes bulging as multiple people in the room flinch. 

"What?" Jace barks back bluntly, tossing his hands up carelessly. "What the fuck do you want me to do? You want me to act like everything is _fine,_ that Simon is just _okay?_ He was alone, he had _no one._ We all just left him! And because of us, _me,_ he's probably out there, _dead_ somewhere, waiting for one of us to find him and kill him!" 

"Shut up," Clary says tightly. 

"Why? Denying the truth won't make this any easier, will it?" Jace hisses, trembling fingers snatching up his jacket to slide it on. It feels like someone is flaying his heart one piece at a time. "Face it, he's probably been dead this entire fucking time." 

Clary steps forward and stares at him with glittering eyes. "Stop it," she whispers. 

_"Why?"_ Jace repeats, voice going soft like he's telling a secret, his entire face feeling numb. "Do you want to know what I saw before I left? Simon. He fell. He _fell,_ Clary, and a zombie was going right for him. His back was to a tree, and the zombie was almost on top of him, and he looked so scared. And you know what? I left him there. I left him to die." 

"Stop it, shut up, _shut up!"_ Clary shouts, reaching out to shove at his chest, her tears falling freely now. She shoves him again hard, her chest heaving. "You don't know what happened! You don't _know,_ Jace. You're just saying this because you're trying to protect your own fucking feelings, but you know what? It doesn't matter how much you _try_ to numb yourself to it, you still fucking care about him, and if he--if he _is_ gone, it's still going to crush you!" 

She shoves him again, and he catches her wrists, swallowing thickly as she fights his hold, glaring at him through her tears. 

"I'm sorry," Jace chokes out, and she slowly stops fighting, just staring at him in defeat. "I'm sorry I left him there. Clary, I'm so _sorry."_

"Oh, Jace," Clary murmurs, staring at _him_ like he's the biggest tragedy she's ever seen. 

Without preamble, she stumbles forward and snatches her hands free, only to throw them around his shoulders and hug him tight. Before he knows what he's doing, he's burying his face into her hair, hiding the way his face screws up. She holds him with a harsh grip, whispering in his ear, promising that Simon is okay, that they'll find him. 

Too bad he doesn't believe her. 

* * *

An hour after dark, they're preparing to go out in search parties. There's five other cabins that need to be looked at, and Alec has to split people up to go in teams. Seeing as Magnus and Jonathan are down for the count for a little while, that kind of shrinks their scope of ground to cover. Magnus can _just_ start walking around without getting winded, and Jonathan is still limping, but Izzy--thankfully--had just wrapped her feet in bandaids and borrowed a pair of boots out of one of the rooms. 

Even still, with two players off the board, that's only three pairs that can go out, meaning that the search for Simon could take longer. Jace doesn't really care about that, or much else, willing to walk around for days until Simon is found. He keeps swinging wildly between a spike of hope that Simon is okay and a rut of despair at the knowledge that he's probably not. 

But, as it turns out, Clary was right. Well, half-right. Simon _is_ okay, but they don't find him. 

He finally, fucking _finally,_ comes to them. 

While there's a miniature argument with Jonathan, who insists that he's fine to go, they all almost miss the thump of shoes outside on the steps. If not for Maia, who cocks her head and holds up a finger, they all would have. Sure enough, they hear it after, the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. For a moment, the footsteps pause. 

Everyone pulls their weapons, tensing up, holding their breath. There's really no need, though. They all can hear Simon before he even gets in through the fucking door, running off at the mouth without taking proper precaution to check in the _house._ At the first sound of his voice, Jace has to let out a deep breath and shakily sit down beside Jonathan, who smirks smugly at him and pats his shoulder. 

"--all that blood. Jeez, that can't be good," Simon's saying as the door opens. He groans. "Oh, guys, come on! What did we talk about? Leaving dead zombies lying around is just _nasty._ Also, these zombies are really fucking weird, huh?" He comes around the corner and beams at them. "Oh hey, the whole gang's here. Woah, Magnus, what happened to you?" 

Magus releases a shaky breath and settles back into his stack of pillows with a small smile. "A zombie knocked me down on my own weapon. I'm fine. You look well enough. No injuries?" 

"Right as rain," Simon chirps easily, looking around at everyone with a bright smile. When he sees their somber faces, his smile drops. "No, seriously, everything is cool. I mean, I'm pretty tired because I've basically ran all night before finding a cabin to rest in about an hour that way." He points to the left and forces a laugh. "But--but I'm good. Why isn't this making anyone feel better? What is it? What don't I know about? Magnus, are you dying? Please don't be dying. D-don't do that." 

"No, I'm not dying," Magnus assures him. 

"We just thought _you_ were," Clary croaks out, moving forward with a sniffle and launching herself at him to hug him so hard they nearly tip over. 

Simon blinks rapidly. "Oh, you--you all thought I was dead," he realizes, smoothing a hand over her hair. 

"I would like it on the record that I did _not,"_ Jonathan calls out, shrugging when Maia reaches back to pinch his arm. "What? I _didn't."_

"I'm so glad you're okay," Clary says with a deep sigh, squeezing him and laughing slightly. 

"Yeah, Fray, I'm glad everyone is okay, too," Simon tells her slowly, lips curling up. However, as soon as his eyes find Jace's, that smile falls away. "Uh, Clary, I'm gonna need you to let me go so I can go draw Jace out of what may be his darkest brooding session yet. I have to keep him in check, you know." 

Clary laughs wryly and draws back, throwing Jace a look over her shoulder, biting her lip. "Yeah, I know you do, Simon," she murmurs. 

Simon winks at her, all happy-go-lucky and fucking _alive,_ like Jace's entire world hasn't been flipped on his head. He sidesteps Clary and fixes his gaze on Jace, reaching out to squeeze Alec's shoulder and toss Izzy a grin as he passes them. He's just _there,_ breathing and okay, still smiling despite everything, and it's not the smile from Jace's nightmare. It's bright and beautiful and fucking _obliterating_ Jace's natural ability to function. 

He's trying to figure out what's going on inside his head, but it's like a tornado has whipped through there and shook everything up. It's a wonder he's breathing right now. In fact, he's not one hundred percent sure that he is. Everything sort of hurts, but doesn't at the same time, and he can't do anything but stare as Simon walks over. 

"You gonna live?" Simon jokes, raising his eyebrows and looking at Jace fondly. "Come on, _relax._ I know you get all bent out of shape about the safety of everyone else, but I've told you and told you, it's not your _responsibility_ to keep us all alive. Besides, hey, I think I did pretty good of a job with that myself." 

Jace just stares at him without blinking. 

Simon's eyebrows furrow and he shuffles restlessly for a moment, then apparently comes to the decision that it's completely okay for him to crouch down in front of Jace, their faces mere inches apart. He doesn't reach out to touch him, but his fingers twitch like they want to, and he's starting to look genuinely concerned now. 

"Jace, hey, man," Simon says, his voice softening like he's talking to a skittish animal, "it's fine." 

"You fell," Jace says, and his voice sounds funny to his own ears, weak and faint and shaky. 

Simon frowns at him. "I mean, yeah, I did. A couple of times, actually. I got back up, though, and I ran." 

Again, Jace is rendered silent. One snapshot at a time, his nightmare is being erased, going from a possibility to nothing more than a ghastly horror that doesn't fit into reality. Simon keeps looking at him, keeps right on breathing. He looks perfectly fine, minus a weariness on his shoulders and some dirt on his clothes. It's stupid how much Jace aches to reach out and _touch_ him, just to make sure that he's really fine. This is what happens when he lets himself have someone, this right here, this gripping worry and fear of loss, this never ending _hope_ that has the power to completely destroy him. 

Simon opens his mouth, maybe to spout off more bullshit about how he's fine, how Jace has got to stop carrying the weight of their lives on his shoulders. But Jace isn't in the mood to hear it. He just has a lot going on in his head right now, relief taking precedence, and he needs an outlet the same way he'd needed Simon to be alive. 

Before Simon can so much as speak a word, Jace reaches out with one sure hand to hook around his head, fingers dragging into his wavy hair, and he drags him forward. Simon's eyes go wide in surprise as he rocks forward, landing on his knees while his hands reach out to brace himself on Jace's thighs. The small sound of shock that he gives is muffled by Jace's lips capturing his. Jace closes his eyes and relaxes, kissing Simon with intent, the contact gentle and warm, lips carefully moving in tandem. 

When Jace pulls back, he exhales slowly and blinks open his eyes to stare at Simon and gruffly mutter, "I don't regret it, Simon, not what happened at the library, and not you." 

"Oh," Simon whispers, blinking slowly and exhaling sharply. His lips curl up at the corners gradually before breaking out into a wide grin. "I _told_ you. Go ahead, say it, say I was right." 

Jace huffs a quiet chuckle. "You were right." 

"So, this is a thing, huh?" Simon murmurs, his gaze scanning Jace's face almost curiously, delight making his brown eyes bright. 

"Yeah, Simon, it's a thing," Jace says softly. 

Simon shifts in place, taking in a short quick breath, squirming like he's too excited to sit still for very long. "Does this mean I can do the cheesy thing and ask you to be my boyfriend? We can be the badass couple who kicks zombie's asses and survives the end of the world." 

"I think Magnus and Alec already beat us to that," Jace tells him, lips twitching when Simon's eyes bulge and he whirls around. 

"Oh my god, you two are together now, too?" Simon blurts out, his nails digging into Jace's thighs as he stares wide-eyed over his shoulder. "Jesus, I really did miss everything! Tell me why it happened, when it happened, _how_ it happened!" 

"Well," Magnus says awkwardly, "we haven't actually _talked_ about--" 

"Last night," Maia says flatly, rolling her eyes when Simon makes a small sound of excitement. "Magnus was in pain from his wound." 

Alec clears his throat. "Uh, we didn't actually _decide_ if we--" 

"Magnus asked for a kiss," Izzy says conversationally, lips stretching into a grin, "so Alec gave him one." 

"Oh, that's so sweet," Simon says with a sigh, turning back to look at Jace. "Isn't that sweet?" 

Jace smirks at Alec, who is bright red. "Yeah, so sweet that it's _cavity-inducing."_

"But, you know, technically we beat them to it," Simon tells him, lightly smacking him on the leg as he stands up with a sigh. He throws a look at everyone, openly self-satisfied. "I got Jace to sex me up at the library. A _wonderful_ experience, by the way. Good times were had by all." 

"Oh, wow," Clary says with a snort. 

Sebastian hums. "Did _not_ see that coming." 

"We won," Simon says with a grin towards Magnus and Alec, dipping into a bow like a dork, clutching his hands together and shaking them in celebration over each shoulder. 

"I wasn't aware it was a race," Alec mutters, throwing Magnus an embarrassed glance. 

"Oh, darling, had it been one, I assure you we were in the lead the entire time," Magnus tells him, gaze soft and his smile broad. 

"I should have--" Alec stops, clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath and sets his shoulders, focusing his gaze on Magnus alone. "I'm sorry for being so resistant. All that time, we could have been--" 

Magnus reaches out and grabs Alec's hand, lacing their fingers together. "We were, just not with all the benefits. It's alright, Alec. We still have time. We'll enjoy all the added benefits later, I assure you."

Alec's smile turns bashful. 

"Okay," Simon says with a soft sigh, looking down at Jace with a shrug, "it's a tie." 

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at Clary. "What do you say, love? There's nothing wrong with being a runner up. _Personally,_ I'd just--" 

"No," Clary tells him with a snort, rolling her eyes. 

Sebastian sighs and Maia reaches out to pat his shoulder sympathetically. 

"We need rest," Jace declares seriously, turning his gaze to Alec with effort, his eyes already attempting to crawl back to Simon. _"More_ rest, I mean. Izzy's fine, and Jonathan is getting there, but Magnus will need another night at the very least." 

Alec nods. "We take tonight, then all day tomorrow. Nightfall tomorrow is when we go." 

"I'm _fine,"_ Magnus insists. Everyone--even Simon--just looks at him with a deadpan expression, and he clears his throat as he settles back into his pillows. "Alright, more rest it is, then." 

"Let's enjoy it while we can," Simon says cheerfully, looking over at Jace with a bright smile. "After all, we have no idea what tomorrow will bring." 

Against his will, Jace's lips curl up. Warmth floods his chest and his heart does that strange squeezing thing again, the one that hurts and feels good all at once. Simon's right--they don't know what tomorrow will bring. But, oddly enough, Jace doesn't find himself fearing it. 

He has hope.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is... Well, let's just say it's the turning point for the rest of this fic. For this, there's a chapter moodboard. Go check it out on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface
> 
> With that... Enjoy ;)

Jace jerks awake at the feeling of fingers drifting across his cheek, and his hand automatically snaps out to grip the person's wrist. He blinks at the sight of Simon's face hovering right in front of his own. 

"Hi," Simon says. 

Jace carefully lets his wrist go. "Hi." 

"It's almost time to go," Simon murmurs, lifting his finger in front of his mouth. "They're all still asleep."

Carefully, Jace sits up on his elbows and squints around blearily. It's nearly dusk, and by the time everyone is up and ready, it'll be dark. Simon's telling the truth--everyone else _is_ asleep. 

Clary and Jonathan are curled up on opposite ends of the couch, so tiny that they fit without ever touching, their expressions the _exact_ same in sleep--mouth slack, tongue resting on their bottom lip, drooling ever so slightly, and they both look like they're about to sneeze. Sebastian is sprawled out on the floor in front of them, his hand leaning against the side of the couch, mere inches from where Clary's hand dangles over the side, and he's so still that he almost looks dead except for the rise and fall of his chest. 

Maia and Izzy share a mattress, sleeping back-to-back, curled in fetal positions while their hair meets at the back and tangles together. Like them, Alec and Magnus also share a mattress, but unlike them, they're blatantly cuddling. Alec, as it turns out, is the little spoon, which is unfairly cute. 

"I wish phones still worked," Jace murmurs in amusement. "I'd take a picture if I could."

"It _is_ pretty adorable," Simon agrees, pushing himself up on his elbows to look around. He glances back at Jace, eye-level now, and he smiles. "Did you sleep well? You looked peaceful." 

Jace had finally settled around mid-morning on a mattress to try and get _some_ sleep. Simon, who apparently was taking this couple thing very seriously, had planted himself right beside Jace and promptly fell asleep curled up against his side. And, well, Jace couldn't move _then,_ not with Simon sleeping on him, so he'd laid there and resigned himself to getting no sleep. But he must have eventually drifted off because he does feel very rested, almost in a way that he hasn't in a long time. 

"You snore," Jace says. 

Simon rolls his eyes. "Yeah, and you talk in your sleep. Also, you do this little snuffling thing that's actually really cute. _And_ you are totally a closet-cuddler because you wouldn't let me go when I tried to get up."

"I _really_ don't like you," Jace mutters, huffing and flopping back down to glare up at the ceiling. 

"Don't believe you," Simon sing-songs quietly, following Jace down and turning to place his head on Jace's shoulder, looking up at him with a small fond smile. "In fact, I'm calling bullshit. You like me a lot, I can tell. You probably always have." 

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Jace mutters, slowly relaxing from the feeling of Simon being pressed up against him. 

Simon lifts himself up, draping one arm over Jace's chest and looking down at him. "You know, you could do a lot worse than me." 

"I know," Jace admits. 

"You thought I was pretty all the way back when we were eighteen," Simon tells him, drumming his fingers on Jace's collarbone. "You said it, I remember. You told Clary I had a pretty face." 

Jace hums. "You do." 

"And--and I have a _great_ attitude," Simon says seriously. "I'm optimistic and positive and funny." 

"You are," Jace agrees. 

Simon nods firmly. "So, my question is, why didn't we do this sooner?" 

"You know why." 

"Okay, so why now, then?" 

"Simon, you sort of cornered me in the library and, you know, _distracted_ me," Jace mutters with a sigh, lips tipping down. "I'm strong, but I'm not _that_ strong. I have a libido just like everyone else." 

Simon grins and laughs softly. "I _seduced_ you." 

"You did," Jace confirms, fondness filling him up as Simon preens at that knowledge. 

"If we find the cure and things get better, we should go on actual dates," Simon murmurs, focusing on Jace with a smile. "If it's safe, I mean. How much fun do you think we'd have in a nearly deserted roller-skating rink? That could be fun." 

"I don't think things will be safe for a very long time, cure or not," Jace admits, grimacing when Simon's smile drops. "But I'll work something out." 

Simon's lips twitch. "Man with a plan. Knight in shining armor. My _hero._ I don't know who you're trying to fool, Jace, you're a big ol' softie." 

"I could break your arm in three different spots right now," Jace tells him flatly. 

"But you _won't,"_ Simon chirps, winking at him before dipping down to press a short kiss to his lips, completely unfazed by the contact like Jace isn't reeling from it. He lifts himself up and smacks Jace's chest lightly. "Come on, let's wake the others. We've got a cure to go find." 

* * *

The lab, as expected, is crawling with zombies. 

Jace's stomach twists itself in knots as they all crouch down in the ditch and survey the lab. Thankfully, none of the zombies appear to be the enhanced ones that had littered the woods. Unfortunately, that isn't much of a reassurance. This is a hoard of zombies, a writhing mass of decay and death, and there's no way that they can make it inside through them. 

Again, this is why Alec is the leader. 

The ditch they're currently crouched in wraps around the whole land of the lab, an open trench meant to help rainwater pass through without flooding, and it spits out at a river around the back of the lab. It's not a sewer, but it provides a route around the zombies like one, and it'll get them close enough to the overly large air-ducts from the back that they should be able to get through, leading them inside. From there, they'll be able to maneuver the lab with Jocelyn and Robert's keycards. 

Jace isn't entirely sure _why_ the lab is still online, considering no one made it out of here alive. Magnus thinks it has to do with back-up generators, but that doesn't make sense. Every single other building in the world has been shut off from electricity, back-up generators be damned. It's been four years, and without _someone_ making sure the generators keep going, they should have eventually stopped. 

They haven't. 

It's another reason the place is flooded with zombies. The activity continuously draws them in; the fact that the building is still lit up is like a beacon to life, except no one could have survived here. 

Jace is hoping that they're the first. He's on edge and alert, watching everything, prepared for things to go south at any moment. He, as usual, sticks to the end of the group, watching their backs, while Alec leads them quietly into the tunnel. It's not comfortable in the least, and they all have to stay stooped over as they shuffle through the cramped space. 

The sound of zombies is just above them, groaning with grinding bones, the stench of death so heavy that it clogs their throat. Nearly all of them are breathing into the bend of their elbow, and Jace's eyes burn with every blink. Here they are again, sludging through the filth and grime that this world has been reduced to. It's disheartening. 

After some time, they finally make it around the property, having to wade through river water and climb up onto the embankment. The water is frigid and has them all hissing quietly as they glide out into it in a single-file line. Jace is the last to get up on the embankment, and by the time he stands, they're all shivering so violently that their teeth clack together. 

This part of the plan isn't glamorous by any means, but it gets the job done. They all pull their bags to the ground and grab the change of clothes they'd brought for this exact moment, silently stripping in a large group under the moonlight. There's nothing intimate about it, just a rush job to get into dry clothes and try to get warm again. 

They dump their clothes carelessly and scramble up the slope of land to peer out towards their goal. The air duct they're meant to be traveling through is on top of a smaller building that connects to the main building. Climbing onto it would be impossible except for the eighteen wheeler parked a few feet away, the roof of it close enough to the roof that has the air duct. The distance between them and the truck isn't that far, and there are significantly less zombies in the back, though there's still a worrying amount. Back here, they're spread out and shuffling around aimlessly, peppered all over the place in a scattered formation that could very quickly form into a medium-sized horde should they be alerted. 

Alec has walked them through this part of the plan multiple times, but Jace is not at all looking forward to it. In fact, every fibre of his being _hates_ this plan so much that he has protested it multiple times, and he rarely protests Alec's orders. 

Simon's the fastest runner. 

He's the one that can cross the distance between the embankment and the truck the quickest, and he'll be the one tasked with getting all the zombies to flood the _front_ of the truck while everyone else darts forward to make their way up the back. Despite Jace's protests, Simon had agreed to do it, even despite how utterly nervous he obviously is. 

Now, Simon raises up with clear intentions to get started, and before Jace knows what he's doing, he's catching his arm to stop him. 

Simon turns towards him, blinking, lips tipping down. They look at each other for a long moment, not saying a word, and Jace's throat bobs when Simon's face softens. Without a word, he surges forward to press a firm kiss to Jace's lips. It's chaste and warm and hard, mouths mashing together, more about _saying something_ than actually getting to kiss. Jace hears Simon loud and clear, and his heart twinges in his chest when Simon pulls away. 

Simon smiles brightly at him, shifts back around to get prepared, and then he's gone. 

Jace holds his breath the entire time, watching Simon whip through the lot faster than he has ever moved before, his steps so quick that they're silent. He only alerts two zombies, but by the time they're stumbling after him, he's swinging himself up to grab handles on the back doors of the truck, frantically scrambling to get to the roof. When he squirms up there, standing to full height, only then does Jace release the breath he's been holding. 

Alec sends him a look that says, _told you he'd be fine._

The form of Simon disappears as he moves towards the front of the truck, the sound of him jumping down to the metal hood a loud _clap_ in the silence. After a moment, the entire truck begins shaking as Simon presumably starts jumping up and down. Moments later, all the zombies in their path move towards the front of the truck with groans. 

There's no time to waste. Alec leads them all across the lot, fluidly moving up the back of the truck and whirling around to help Magnus up in one smooth motion. One after the other, they all make their way to the roof of the truck while Simon swings at a few zombies up front to keep them from climbing up, not that they have enough coordination to actually _manage_ it, but still. Jace is the last to go up, and he gets in position while Simon meets them on the roof. 

Everyone glances at each other, sharing a quick nod, and the truck shakes as the zombies throw themselves at the side. Alec and Izzy step back in unison, then burst forward to leap over onto the roof, landing with grunts as they roll. Immediately after, Magnus takes a deep breath and cradles his side, preemptively wincing for the pain that's sure to come after he gets a running start and jumps. Simon and Clary go together, then Maia and Sebastian follow. 

Jace looks over the side of the truck that's still steadily rocking. The zombies seem to be splitting, half of them clawing at the truck while the others are reaching up the side of the building the others are waiting on. He takes a step back and looks at Jonathan, who waves his hand, giving him the go ahead to go next. 

Landing on the other building is not fun, and his shoulder smarts when it connects, but he puts it out of his mind as Sebastian reaches down to help him to his feet. Alec's standing in front of Magnus, who is breathing heavily through clenched teeth and clutching his wound, their faces both a mask of twisted pain. But, after a moment, Magnus' breathing smooths out and he nods, giving Alec a wobbly smile, which Alec proceeds to kiss off his face. Jace hides a smile and turns back to watch Jonathan make it over. 

The truck is lighter now, without all of them on it, and that's the miscalculation, when Jace thinks back on it later. Just as Jonathan leaps off the side of the truck, it tips backwards, making him stumble. He goes sailing across the space and slams into the side of the building with a gasp like all the air has been punched out of him. He scrambles at the sides, thin hands scrabbling for purchase against the ledge that he seems to be slipping down. 

"Jonathan!" Clary screams, forgoing silence in the face of her panic, surging forward to lunge for her little brother. 

Jace puts on a burst of speed, diving in sync with Clary to grasp desperately at Jonathan's arms. He goes so far forward that his torso hangs over the side, giving him the chance to see Jonathan kicking at the zombies that grasp at his dangling legs and pull at him. With effort, Jace and Clary yank Jonathan gracelessly on the roof with grunts and loud huffs as they all land in a heap. 

"Are you hurt? Are any of you hurt?!" Alec hisses out as everyone else comes running over to help them up. 

Jonathan grimaces as he stands up, inhaling sharply as he favors one foot. "Fuck, my--my ankle," he blurts out, throat bobbing. 

"Did any of you get bit?" Alec asks firmly, his gaze flicking between them all. 

"No," Clary gasps out, throwing Sebastian a grateful look as he helps her up, "I'm fine. Jonathan? Jace?" 

"Fine," they intone in unison. 

Alec releases a sigh, shoulders slumping as he relaxes all at once. "Okay," he breathes out, "okay, this is good. We can--we can work with this. Jonathan, can you walk?" 

Jonathan clears his throat and winces as he takes a step forward, limping slightly. "Yeah," he mutters wearily, "I can, but it's not going to be fun. But I'll make it, I swear. We can--we'll find the cure, and then we'll go home. It's going to be fine." 

"We'll carry you out of here if we have to," Alec assures him with a small smile. "Come on, we'll take it slow through the lab." 

After a moment to catch their breath, they all move towards the air duct. It's a bit of a struggle to get it open, but after it is, they're all subjected to crawling through yet another small space. Magnus' breathing is labored, no doubt hurting from being bent in such a position, and Jonathan tucks his pants into the boot of his injured foot for some padding, no doubt dealing with his own pain from his ankle. 

It's slow-going and cramped, nearly suffocating, and Jace has to keep his breathing even. He doesn't exactly _like_ small spaces, and it kind of seems like the walls are closing in, but he knows the only way out is through. Or, rather, the only way out is _down._

The last part of Alec's plan to get into the lab is equally as fun as the other parts, meaning _not at all._ They finally reach a panel that opens up to a room beneath them, and Alec slams on it to push it out, the opening falling to the floor with a clatter. They're meant to drop down into the room, which obviously will be _tremendously_ uncomfortable for everyone, but especially Magnus and Jonathan. 

Seeing as none of them have the room to maneuver into a better position, they all have to fall forwards through the gaping hole. Alec drops down first, landing with an _oomph_ of pain and a hiss. A moment later, Magnus takes a deep breath and falls forward, but Alec must do his best to brace his fall because his sound of pain is brief. 

One after the other, they all go. Sebastian is after Magnus, and he catches Clary when she tumbles forward, a fact known by how she grumbles about it. Maia goes next, and unlike Clary, she doesn't complain about being caught. Izzy follows, and after she drops, she releases a light laugh. 

Her voice floats up. "You're strong, Maia." 

"Yeah, I know," Maia replies. 

Jonathan goes next, and his fall must be seamless because he doesn't even make a sound. Simon lets out a short squeak when he goes, and Jace scoots forward to look down. Alec and Sebastian both catch Simon and set him on his feet, which makes Simon beam at them in thanks. 

Before they can prepare to catch him, Jace flattens himself out and slips through the space, tucking his knees and landing flat on his feet in a smooth flip. He smirks as everyone stares at him. 

"That was really hot," Simon tells him breathlessly. 

Jace snorts. "Those tumbling classes aren't so funny _now,_ are they?" 

"Yeah, yeah, you can do flips, you're cool and flexible, good for you." Alec waves him off and glances around the room, his eyes serious. "This is it. We're in the lab." 

Alec's right. They most certainly are. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a doozy, folks, but it might just be one of my favorites. For this one, I have a Fray Sibling (Jonathan and Clary) moodboard! Go check it out on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface
> 
> Without further ado...Enjoy? :D

It's strange to be in a building with the lights on. Outside of flashlights, glowsticks, and literal daylight, Jace hasn't seen a room filled with light in years. It almost hurts, actually. 

"This is so weird," Clary murmurs, slowly pacing around the room, lips tipping down as she looks at various science equipment. "I can't believe my mom _owned_ The Circle." 

"Co-owned," Simon reminds her. 

"Alright," Alec says firmly, reaching in his bag to pull out the blueprints, looking down at it with a small frown. "Okay, so it looks like we came out on the second floor. We need to make it down the first floor and then into the basement level. Mom said that's where the office containing all the records of the research and projects were." 

"Would Project Angel be there, you think?" Jonathan asks warily. "For the cure, I mean. If Mom was sneaking into this place, she wouldn't just keep the records here, would she?" 

Clary shakes her head. "Luke said she never brought anything out, only inside. Any information on the cure _has_ to be here." 

"What are the chances that, uh, zombies are in here?" Simon asks warily, slowly walking around the room to touch various equipment. 

Jace has the ridiculous urge to smack his hand away from anything. Something about this place feels inherently _wrong._ The longer he stands in this building, the more uneasy he grows. It has to have something to do with how the disease was born--created--here, at the hands of ignorant people who should have left things alone. 

"There is a good chance, yes," Magnus confirms with a sigh. "I'm sure there were, at least, some employees who were locked into the building when the disease broke out. But this place has been on lockdown since everything happened, so there can't be that many." 

"Be on your guard anyway," Alec orders firmly. He rolls up the map and takes a deep breath. "We leave this room and hook a right. At the end of the hall, there should be stairs that will lead us right down to the basement. Jonathan, are you _sure_ you're good to walk? If not, you can wait here." 

Jonathan pauses, actually seeming to consider it, then he shakes his head and clenches his jaw. He takes a measured step forward, the skin around his eyes tightening in pain, but otherwise, he hides any other tell that it might hurt. 

"I'm fine." He clears his throat and nods sharply at Alec. "I'm coming with you." 

"Alright," Alec says, "then let's move." 

Jace continues to feel increasingly worse as they leave the room, slipping into the eerily silent hallway. He thinks about the origin of the disease, wonders vaguely if patient zero was ever contained or if it's out there somewhere--no doubt the epitome of a _true_ abomination. Maybe he's already killed it and had no idea, maybe it's still in this lab somewhere. 

As they all slip into the hall, sticking close to the bare wall and avoiding the doors, they all freeze when they hear a loud _thump!_ Jace already has his blade at the ready, and the worn leather grip squeaks as he tightens his hand around it, heart thumping wildly in his chest. The sound echoes once more, this time louder, and then they continue. The thumps become frequent and louder, making everyone glance at each other in confusion. 

Is someone else here? But... _who?_

Moving slowly and as silently as possible, they all draw towards the loud thumping noise, holding their breath as they get closer and closer to the emergency stairwell. Jace's heart drops as they turn to peer through the small glass window on the door, looking on the other side to see the source of the noise. 

"Zombies," Maia murmurs. 

Izzy clears her throat. "Yeah, and _a lot_ of them." 

They've seen more, surely. This is a very tiny horde, at best, but it's also too many in one spot. They could _try_ taking on the zombies, but the risk is far too great to even consider. Jace stares through the glass at the zombies throwing themselves at the door, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. The zombies...they're all trapped with no way out, and surely not all of them were trapped before they turned, so that begs the question…

"Wait, how come they're all in there?" Sebastian asks abruptly, voicing the very words on the tip of Jace's tongue, his eyes narrowing. 

Jace steps up to the glass, tilting his head as he looks to the zombies. "Who locked you away in here, I wonder?" he murmurs. 

"Could have been someone from the day of the outbreak," Simon suggests warily. 

"Possibly," Jace says, but he sincerely doubts it. 

"Okay, so the stairs are out." Clary turns to Alec with a sigh. She raises her eyebrows. "What else?" 

Alec frowns. "There's always the elevator, but I didn't want to risk something like that. It'd be our luck that the damn thing would decide to quit working the moment we're in it." 

"Do we have another choice?" Magnus asks. 

They don't. 

Alec needn't have worried, as it turns out, because the elevator takes them all the way down to the basement without even a bump on the way. The doors open with a cheerful ding that sets Jace's teeth on edge, and they pour out of the elevator with weapons at the ready. Again, there's no need to worry. The basement level is starkly silent, the absence of sound so loud that Jace's ears ring, and there's not a sign of life or the lack thereof. 

Jace just feels discomfort. This is too _easy._ This part was anticipated to be the hardest, and yet, they make it to the office without a snag. For the first time since this entire fucking mission started, nothing is going _wrong,_ and it's smooth sailing--at the lab, no less, where the biggest struggle should have awaited them. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for zombies to attack, for _something._

The office is, of course, locked. But it seems that the regular security system for this very specific door is dismantled, while no other doors are. Instead, there's just a rusty padlock that Izzy manages to break off with one swing of her bat. And, just like that, they're walking into the empty office. 

"That was easy," Simon notes happily. 

Jace sends him a warning look. "Yeah, a little too easy, don't you think?" 

"After what it took to get here, I think we deserve a little easy." Simon smiles at him. "Positivity, Jace. You should really have some." 

Jace ignores him, glancing around the room. This entire place unsettles him, but this room specifically has him feeling uneasy. He can't really pinpoint why, and his mind runs in circles trying to figure out what has him so tense. There's nothing _wrong_ with the room. It's pristine, everything as clean and neat as the room they entered into. 

"Files," Alec says firmly, waving towards the desk and the file-cabinets. 

Everyone disperses to start searching, but Jace gets distracted almost immediately. There's a picture on the wall, hanging in an unblemished frame. The photo itself is old and well-worn, almost as if someone has folded it and kept it lovingly for years. There's nothing special about it, just an image of a landscape--rolling green pastures and the faint outline of a black fence in the corner of the photo. As Jace stares at it, his lips tip down in confusion. It feels...familiar?

"Oh my god," Izzy suddenly whispers, drawing everyone's attention. She's as white as a sheet, and her hands tremble around the file she's holding in her hands. Again, she whispers, "Oh my god." 

"What is it?" Clary asks tersely. 

"The--the subjects that were mentioned in Dad's folder, the ones who couldn't consent…" Izzy looks up with wide, watery eyes. Her next words are weighted with disgust and horror. "They couldn't consent because they were _children."_

Everyone, all at once, lets out the same sound of shock and dismay, and Jace grimaces as he tries not to think about that too much. Children. Little kids who probably didn't even _know,_ who probably just wanted to go home, who--

"Why would they use _children's_ blood to--to help make the virus?" Clary hisses, her eyes wide as she holds a manila folder. "Those sick _fucks."_

Izzy swallows and looks down at the folder, her lips twisting. "Apparently, they got the samples _years_ ago, a lot of them. Regularly, too. They had the same five kids come in once a month for a while." 

"Those poor kids," Simon whispers, his face falling. His throat bobs. "Did--does it say what happened to them? Were the parents okay with it?" 

"It doesn't say much," Izzy replies softly, eyes scanning the paper as she reads it. "Says nothing about the parents. The kids were fine, though, and young enough that they shouldn't remember it. Their blood is apparently the reason that the disease...that it was able to work."

"Christ," Jonathan mutters, looking sweaty and pale all at once, rocked to his core by such a thing. He twists trembling fingers together. "Do you think their blood also helped create the cure?" 

"There's nothing here _about_ a cure," Maia snaps, slapping file after file onto the desk. "Employee report after employee report, records of equipment used and shipped in, outlines of the federal mandated projects to help the military. _Nothing_ about a cure, and not much else about the virus." 

"Ah," Clary says delicately, holding her hands out like she's surfing on waves, "I wouldn't be so sure of that." 

She shifts in place, frowning as she looks down. Holding up a finger, she eases down to her knees with a distracted frown like their confusion can't be priority right now. Her smudged fingers drift along the carpet, pressing in, tugging at it. 

"Clary," Alec starts, "what are--" 

"Sebastian, your machete, give it to me," Clary demands, barely paying them any mind as she holds up a hand and waits. 

"Uh, love, what--" 

"Sebastian!" 

Blinking, Sebatstian mutters, "Alright, alright," and passes her his machete. 

Tongue poking out of her mouth, Clary pulls back to grip the hilt of the machete in her hands, the sharp tip pointed to the ground. "When I was younger, my mom wanted to, uh, teach me about textures," she says. "When she started getting all those buyers, or coming to the lab--now that we know that she was--she became particularly invested in _carpet."_

"Carpet?" Simon mutters. "Fray, what the hell are you talking about?" 

"I remember that," Jonathan murmurs, his eyebrows furrowing. "I used to come out of my room to find mom making you feel strips of carpet while blindfolded. I thought you two were just doing an artist thing, or bonding." 

Clary snorts. "I thought she was insane, but she did tell me it was an artist thing. Something about drawing textures of the setting properly, which is true, to be fair. But I remember a particular type of carpet, one she _always_ added into the mix and had me identify. She seemed obsessed with it, even made me learn how it felt when it had glass beneath it." 

"Glass," Izzy echoes flatly. 

"Yeah," Clary confirms. _"Glass."_

Then, without further explanation, she slams the machete down with a grunt, ignoring the fact that there must be fucking _concrete_ beneath the carpet. But, in fact, her story had merit, because there's a sound of shattering, and they all flinch in surprise as the machete gives into the carpet that slumps and hollows out like the floor--or rather, the glass--beneath it had given away. 

With ease, Clary yanks the machete down to broaden the slit, then pulls the machete out and reaches her fingers into the opening to rip it apart. 

"Holy shit," Simon breathes out when Clary pulls out what looks like a fire resistant safe, the type you would usually lock guns in. On the outside, there's a pin-lock. "Uh, does anyone know the code?" 

Jonathan huffs a short laugh. "If it stands to reason that Clary was the one who'd know how to find it, then of course Mom would make sure I knew how to open it. She asked me what my favorite time of the day was once, and every day after, she pointed to the clock and told me the time. She _never_ forgot. Try five o'clock and see what you get." 

Clary immediately types it in, only to frown when nothing happens. "I don't understand." 

"Wait," Simon blurts out, eyes going wide, "Jocelyn always had military time on her phone. Jonathan, was it five in the morning or five in the evening?" 

"Evening, but--" 

"Try seventeen hundred," Jace says. 

Clary slowly types one, seven, zero, zero. The safe gives a little _beep_ and unlocks with a smooth _snik._ She looks up at them with a bright smile, her eyes dancing in delight. With shaking fingers, she carefully opens the safe, lips parting as the lid raises. Just as she's about to reach in, the entire room abruptly goes dark and an alarm starts wailing. 

For a moment, all Jace can think is, _and there goes the other shoe._

No one panics, not at first. They're a bit more level-headed than that, though Jace _does_ hear Simon let out a short yelp that he immediately cuts off. The sudden darkness is jarring, but the loud sound of the alarm is even more so, blaring loudly on a constant loop. Still, they stay silent and still, waiting, listening. 

A moment later, there's the sound of approaching roars, louder, even, than the alarms. Jace knows _immediately_ what's happened and whirls around to scream, "Run!" 

"Get back to the elevator now!" Alec shouts. 

After that, it's a blur of fleeing. It's far too dark to make out who's bumping into who, and the zombies on the way aren't too close just yet. They can make it. God, Jace hopes they can make it. 

When the sound of crumbling walls and hissing zombies break out into the hallway, Jace reaches out to snag whomever is in front of them and yank on their arm. They all scatter in wild directions as the zombies come pouring through, filling up the hall with their hungry groans. Jace yanks on the arm of whomever he has and ducks into the door closest to them, slicing at a zombie that slams into the door before he can close it and lock it. 

The zombie slumps back when Jace stabs it right through the skull, and it falls back into the mass of zombies with the blade still stuck in its dome. Keeping a hand on the hilt, Jace lets the rush of the running zombies snatch the corpse off his blade and slams the door shut while flicking the lock. 

He heaves a deep breath and hunkers down, closing his eyes as the door shakes and rattles from the zombies passing by. Slowly, he presses his back to the door and slides down, one hand coming up to cover his mouth as he works to breathe. 

"Jace?" 

Jonathan. He sounds genuinely stunned, and fraught with terror in a way he never usually is. He's never, _ever_ sounded so...hopeless. It makes Jace's heart squeeze violently in his chest, fear a cold slide down his spine. He takes a deep breath. 

"Okay," Jace says carefully, dropping his hand from his mouth and blinking rapidly as he waits for his eyes to adjust. "Okay, everything is--" 

The lights suddenly come back on, the alarm coming to an abrupt silence that's as loud as the alarm was. Jace squints as the fluorescent lights beam down with no warning, making his eyes sting. It takes a moment for him to adjust, but when he does, he blinks as he looks at Jonathan. 

Jonathan, who is only standing on one foot, beads of sweat sliding down his temples. He looks like he's in grandiose pain, teeth gritted, all the color drained away from his face and leaving him a waxy gray pallor. He braces himself on a nearby counter with a sink built in, his breathing short. 

"Jace," he whispers. 

Something frays on Jace's nerves, making him launch to his feet and whirl around to peer out the small window that lets him see the hallway. 

"Okay, so we're a little trapped," Jace says calmly, his mind going a mile a minute. "But that's okay. The others scattered, probably to other rooms. They should be fine. We need to find some way to get out of this room, possibly through the ceiling again, but I don't know if the ventilation--" 

"Jace." 

"--is the same. If we can figure out some way to make it back to the elevator, we'll be fine. Maybe we--"

_"Jace."_

"--can somehow get the zombies to go up the hall. If there are stragglers, we can kill them. There's probably between thirty and fifty out there, but if we get _most_ of them to the other end of the hall, we should be able to make it to the elevator. _All_ of us. The only thing I don't--" 

"JACE!" Jonathan bellows. 

Snapping his mouth shut, Jace jerks and turns around to look at Jonathan. "What? Look, don't be scared, okay? We've gotten out of worse situations. What _I_ want to know is how all of _that_ just happened. The power going out? An alarm? Just as Clary finds the cure? That doesn't make sense." 

"You really think it was the cure?" Jonathan asks wearily, his throat bobbing. 

"I do," Jace says quietly, equally subdued by the impact of the importance that is a _cure._ "The fact that all of this just happened, that zombies were released down here, _just_ as Clary opened that safe...it almost guarantees that it's the cure." 

Jonathan blinks at him slowly. "You--you think someone else is here? That someone sent those zombies down to keep us from getting the cure?" 

"Think about it." Jace looks around the room with his eyebrows drawn together. "This place is--it gives me the _creeps,_ Jonathan." 

"Well, it _is_ the lab that started the zombie apocalypse." 

"It's more than that. Just--just _look_ at it. The zombies were trapped in that stairwell, and maybe it was just people hiding who ended up turned, but what are the odds of that? And this entire lab is...clean. It's neat and put together; there's not even any _dust._ No signs that people were in panic here, but they must have been, right? Things would have been turned over, broken, just like every other building. But someone must have cleaned it up, just like _someone_ released those zombies to keep us from getting that cure." 

Jonathan swallows thickly. "That would mean someone was watching us." 

"It was so easy." Jace releases a deep sigh and scans the room with a frown. "The moment we got into the lab, it was like a walk in the park, like someone _wanted_ us to find the cure. We must have been monitored, led to find the cure, and once we did...well, whoever it was was just let those zombies out to handle us. _Someone_ wants this cure, someone who knew that only us would be able to find it." 

"Jace, no offense, but that sounds like wild speculation, even to me," Jonathan mutters, raising shaking hands to rub at his forehead. 

Jace sighs. "Maybe, maybe not. All I know for sure is that we have to get the others, get the cure, and get the _fuck_ out of here. How's the ankle?" 

"Jace, it's--" Jonathan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He slowly opens his eyes and stares at Jace sadly. "It's really bad." 

"Okay," Jace says carefully, turning over options in his mind. He gives a firm nod. "Okay, so I'll carry you out when the opportunity--" 

"No, Jace." Blue eyes full of sadness pin Jace in place, and Jonathan gazes at him with a weighted stare, lips tugging down at the corners. "I'm not going to make it, not this time." 

"Shut up," Jace says immediately, his voice fierce and steady. "Like Alec said, we will carry you out of here if we have to. You _are_ going to make it." 

"I'm not," Jonathan tells him, his voice soft like he's soothing a distraught child. "You don't understand. This isn't something I--" 

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Jace hisses, taking two menacing steps forward, raising a shaking finger in the air to jab it towards Jonathan, who just continues to stare at him with sorrow in his blue-green eyes. "You don't get to say that, you do _not_ get to give up, do you hear me? We survive, that is _what_ we do! I don't need to understand anything else except that you are getting the fuck out of here, even if I have to drag you out by my-fucking-self!" 

"Jace, I--" Jonathan cuts himself off, his lips quivering like the words his lips want to form are too painful to say.

"Jonathan, it doesn't matter _what_ you say. We are making it. You, me, the others. We are. We're getting this cure and we're going home," Jace insists. 

Jonathan closes his eyes tight and swallows, a trembling hand reaching down to jumble up his pants over his leg, hiking it up to reveal his injured ankle. In a voice so soft and filled with such pain that Jace's heart shrivels just hearing it, he opens his eyes and chokes out, "I got _bit."_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the hits keep coming, and they don't stop coming... 
> 
> Yet another doozy, folks. I didn't want to leave the few readers I have now hanging too long from the last chapter cliffhanger. So here, I offer you this instead 😂 
> 
> For this chapter, I have another Jonathan moodboard on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface
> 
> With that being said...good luck and enjoy! ;)

"No," Jace says, because _no._

But the evidence is there, right fucking there, mocking him. His heart drops, and with it, his eyes fall to the wound on Jonathan's ankle. It's a dismaying chunk that's been taken out of the skin right above his ankle, leaving behind a black crater. Veins, black as oil-slick, snake around the bite, curling farther and farther out beneath cracking gray skin. Jace wills the bite away, but it stays. 

It stays. 

"I'm sorry," Jonathan whispers. 

Jace raises a trembling hand and shakes his head furiously. "No. _No._ You--you said… Jonathan, you said you were fine, that you weren't _bitten._ You said that!" 

"I lied." Jonathan gulps and glances away in shame, taking a deep breath. "I--I thought we'd find the cure, and then maybe it wouldn't matter. It happened when I was on the side of the building after jumping from the truck. I felt it when I got bit. It hurt, like someone was gnawing on my bone, but this--the disease--hurts more." 

"No," Jace says again, uselessly. 

His heart hurts, and suddenly, he desperately wishes Simon were here. He aches for his smile and glowing optimism so much in this moment that it makes him lightheaded from how badly he needs it. He can't do this, not alone. He _won't_ do this. 

"When--Jace, when it comes time," Jonathan says gently, "I--I want you to take care of it, of _me,_ okay?"

"No, _not_ okay!" Jace snaps, anger and frustration swelling within him. "Why the fuck didn't you _say_ something? Why didn't--how could you just...just _lie_ to us, to your family?! We have fucking RULES!" 

Jonathan's face crumbles and he leans heavily against the counter, taking in a rattling breath. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just--I wanted to think that we'd get the cure, that I wouldn't have to put any of you through this. Especially Clary. Jace, this is going--this will break her. After Mom...she can't handle it." 

"You don't _know_ what she can handle!" Jace shouts, marching forward to grip Jonathan's shoulder and shake it roughly, making Jonathan wince and look up at him in regret. "You should have _told us."_

"I know," Jonathan rasps. 

Jace drops his hand and presses his fist to his stomach, his gut swirling with nausea. "I won't take _care_ of you. I won't have to, because we're going to get to Clary and give you this cure. And _then,_ we're all going to kick your ass." 

"Jace," Jonathan breathes out, that one word laden with so much _pity_ that Jace feels bile rise in his throat, forcing him to swallow it down, "that's not going to happen. I--I had time, before, but with the zombies keeping us trapped, it's running out. Had I gotten the cure five minutes ago--hell, even a minute ago--I'd be fine." 

"You're going to _be_ fine," Jace growls out, reaching out to grasp Jonathan's shoulder once more, this time to squeeze it. "You will." 

Jonathan swallows. "I can feel it inside me, Jace. It's--it's pure evil. And it's moving fast, picking up speed, just like it does in the end." 

"You're _fine,"_ Jace repeats harshly, swallowing thickly as he stares at Jonathan's form. 

But, the truth is, Jonathan is _not_ fine. He's slowly growing more gray, clammy now with sweat, his shirt soaked through. The blue veins that had always stood out beneath his fair skin are darkening, leaning more towards black than blue, rapidly changing before Jace's very eyes. Jonathan looks weak and faint, hands shaking, swaying on his feet, face twisted like he's seconds from puking. 

Jonathan gives him a sad smile. "I'm dying," he says softly, the words so quiet that Jace almost doesn't hear them, but he does, and it makes him flinch. 

Jace wants to say _you're not, you can't,_ but the words won't come. There's a lump in his throat, and his whole body aches like it's dying right along with Jonathan. 

This isn't _right,_ isn't fair. This isn't how it was supposed to go; they were all aware of the risks, but deep down, they all thought they'd make it out. The mere idea that some of them might not survive was unfathomable, and now that it's reality, Jace is struggling to come to terms with it. 

It's not like Simon being missing. Hope, in that, had been founded, at least. But this is a bite. No one survives that. They have the cure, _maybe,_ but they don't know what form it comes in, how to use it, if it has to be made, and they're no closer to getting to Clary than they were five minutes ago. This _is_ hopeless, a no-chance situation, and Jace doesn't know what he's supposed to do with that. 

Except he does. 

Everyone always knows. It's just the 'coming to terms with it' part that everyone has their hangups about. The facts are, Jonathan is bit, and they have no way to cure him, and he's probably only ten minutes out from dying and turning into a walking corpse. Jace will have to kill him, and it won't be pretty. He doesn't have a gun on him, just blades, and he'll be forced to stab Jonathan. 

He thinks of Clary, of how hard losing Jocelyn hit her, of how close she is to her little brother. She always used to joke that, in some other world, she was actually the little sister because Jonathan has always looked out for her. It's a mutual thing, though; Clary has always been there for Jonathan. 

Jonathan is right. This will break her. And Jace will have to be the one who has to kill Jonathan when it's her _right._ And then, he'll have to tell her. 

"You're going to be okay," Jace murmurs, a strange detachment unlocking in his mind, shutting down all his own emotions about this. Right here and now, Jonathan is dying, and it's Jace's place to make sure it's as painless as possible. "Everything is going to be okay, I promise. We'll get the cure, and you'll be alright. Here, why don't we sit?" 

"Okay," Jonathan rasps, wincing as he slowly slumps down to the ground, clutching the counter and leaning on the side of it. When Jace sinks down beside him, he smiles. "Will you tell them that I got bit here? I--I don't want them to know I lied." 

Jace's heart clenches in his chest, and his breath hitches in his chest. "Yeah, Jonathan, I'll tell them it happened here," he vows in a croak. 

_No one will know how close we came to saving your life, no one but me,_ Jace thinks, then immediately banishes the thought, the reminder too painful to bear. 

"Tell Clary that I--that I'm sorry, and that I love her," Jonathan whispers, reaching out to faintly tug at Jace's sleeve. "You have to look out for her after this. Make her--make sure she keeps living. I need her to keep living, Jace. _Promise me."_

"I promise." Jace's eyes sting as he reaches out with a shaking hand to clasp Jonathan's frail fingers. He's always been so delicate. "I'll do for her what I should have done for you." 

Jonathan clicks his tongue. "Oh, stop that. You've taken care of me for most of my life, long before the end of the world. Always. I remember when we met. You looked at me and you told me that I was almost as pretty as my sister." 

"I was mocking you," Jace whispers in shame. 

"I know, but I liked it." Jonathan snorts, and drops his forehead onto Jace's shoulder. "No one had ever treated me without any trace of discomfort right after meeting me. I made people uncomfortable, creeped them out, and you just called me _pretty._ You've always been there for me, for all of us, in ways you can't even imagine." 

"You know how much we love you," Jace whispers, wishing he could make his voice stronger, wishing he could _make_ Jonathan know that. 

Jonathan hums. "I know. Everyone of you, in your own ways. Clary, my big sister. Alec, always there to bitch about people with me. Magnus, forever happy to show me his lotions that he makes and just spend time with me. Simon, the one who always checks on me and makes sure I smile. You, the first person I ever met who never felt I was weird. Hell, even Maia and Sebastian are so lovely to me. And Izzy. _God,_ Izzy is my best friend; she knows everything, all my secrets, and she loves me anyway. Please tell her I'll miss her, that I'm keeping my promise to take all her secrets with me to my grave." 

"Jonathan," Jace rasps out, tears stinging his eyes. 

"Shh, it's okay," Jonathan soothes, but it's not. 

Jace closes his eyes and swallows. "I should have let you jump first. I--" 

"Stop," Jonathan says firmly. "Just stop it. I won't let you spend my last moments blaming yourself. There's no reason for it, not after everything you've done for me." 

"Okay," Jace chokes out, his throat feeling thick. 

Jonathan hums. "The others are going to mourn. You can't take me back, you know. You have to leave me here. My dead weight could put you all in danger." 

"I said we'd carry you out of here, and I meant it. You're going home, Jonathan, one way or another." 

"Jace--" 

"I'm not arguing with you about this. We're taking you home. It's not like you'll notice." 

"Could be watching from heaven." 

"You? Heaven?" Jace forces a crooked smile and glances over at Jonathan, who looks so incredibly drained. "They'd never let you in." 

Jonathan snorts. "I'll _sneak_ in." 

"Are you scared?" Jace asks, then immediately wishes he hadn't. 

"Yes," Jonathan answers without an ounce of hesitation, his blue eyes flicking up to Jace's, throat bobbing. There's a hazy, opaque sheen forming over his eyes, and the black veins are starting to stand out in his face, snaking around his eyes. 

Jace takes a deep breath. "The moment you're turned, I'll make it all go away. You won't be in pain for a second longer than you have to." 

"Thank you," Jonathan says warmly, reaching out with both hands expectantly. "Do me a favor and hold me through the seizures. I don't want to hurt myself anymore than I have to." 

"I'm sorry," Jace whispers, looking into Jonathan's eyes, his heart racing in his chest. 

Jonathan smiles. "Don't be. I'm with family." 

Closing his eyes, Jace grabs up his dagger and wraps both arms around Jonathan in an unyielding grip, holding him steady through the first tremor that rakes through his body. Not long now. 

It isn't. It never is. The disease takes Jonathan just like it takes everyone, multiplying and gaining control over him, making his body jerk as it runs its course. Jace knows this is agony, mostly because he doubts it isn't, but also because he's heard the screams. Jonathan doesn't, though. He just tucks his face into Jace's neck and twitches, whimpering. He's so small. _So_ _small._

Jace knows when Jonathan is dead, when the disease has won. He goes limp, not breathing, his empty body slumped in Jace's arms. For a long moment, Jace can't let him go. He keeps Jonathan close to his chest, and he does not move. He does not cry. 

He holds him there until his heart suddenly seems to shrink, almost like it's being ripped in half, and _that_ half is being ripped in half, and so on. It's a painful process, and he wishes for anyone to be here, to help him through this, to share the burden--that is immeasurably selfish, he knows, but this travesty feels too heavy to shoulder on his own. 

But he will. Because he always does. 

Carefully, Jace lowers the too-still Jonathan to the floor, his heart in his throat. He feels shaky and unsteady, tremors running through him like he's possibly picked up Jonathan's symptoms. Some distant part of him agrees, thinks he's dying now too at the loss of family. 

There's a pause, a brief moment where things suddenly come to a stand still, and Jace holds his breath. The world seems to have stopped turning, and this must be the end, except Jonathan's finger twitches, and the world continues once more. 

Jace grips his blade, grits his teeth, and gets ready…

An explosion abruptly takes place right outside the room, rocking the hallway and making Jace slam back from the force of it. His head collides with the cabinet _hard,_ and his last thought before he passes out--as his vision swims and his stomach recoils in on itself--is that he lied, that he won't be able to end Jonathan's suffering at all. 

Everything goes black. 

* * *

Jace slowly resurfaces to the sound of roaring flames and his name being shouted above him. His whole body is being yanked on, limp weight surging up like a steadily cooking noodle. He blinks in surprise to see Simon's worried face hovering in front of his. 

"Simon?" Jace mumbles. 

Relief floods Simon's expression, and he works to get Jace settled on his feet. "Hey, are--are you okay? Your head is bleeding, just a little." 

"I, um." Jace swallows down a wave of sickness and blinks hard, his vision slowly coming into focus. His head throbs painfully. "I'm fine, I just--" 

Even just remembering hurts. Having to relive that knowledge once more is like a kick to his chest. Whipping around--and immediately regretting it as his vision swims again--Jace looks to the last spot Jonathan's dead body had been in. 

It's gone. _He's_ gone. 

"Jace?" Simon asks, reaching out to carefully grasp his arms, face twisted into worry. 

"Jonathan," Jace rasps, frantically looking around behind him. 

Simon starts tugging on him. "Jace, we have to _go,_ right now. Right now!" 

Jace is still recovering from being clocked on the head, and all of his thoughts seem to be going as slow as molasses, and blood sluggishly dribbles thick and warm down the side of his face. He tries to protest when Simon drags him towards the door, but the whole room starts spinning and he feels like he's going to be sick. 

"Jace!" Izzy cries from the doorway, some of the worry draining from her face. She reaches out to steady him as they move closer. Flames roar out of control from behind her, heavy with heat and smelling of smoke that stinks like tar. "Okay, let's get out of here, come on!" 

Jace stumbles, reaching out to clench his fists into Simon's shirt so he won't fall. The whole world tilts forward. "Jonathan," he says again, weakly. 

"The others will find him!" Simon assures him, tugging him from the room and forcefully yanking him away from the flames. 

Yes, that's--that's good. Jonathan has to be found; he _has_ to be. Simon's words reassure him, and he lets himself be pulled farther down the hall. Rotting body parts have been blown all over the hallway, pieces scattered all over the floor--their shoes slip and crunch on them. Something doesn't make sense. Jace's mind tries to grasp it, but he can't. 

There are others darting in and out of rooms ahead of them. Maia supports a grimacing Magnus, Sebastian right on Clary's heels as she runs from room to room, and Alec stands at the farther end of the hallway, walking with purpose. Simon calls out for him, and everyone stops, whirling around to immediately make a beeline towards them. 

Clary makes it first, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. She reaches out to cradle Jace's face, staring into his eyes. "Jonathan," she chokes out, "is he--" 

"Dead," Jace says wearily, his head throbbing, the pain so distracting that he can't even properly react when Clary's hands drop from his face and she takes a step back, going pale. "He's--he was bitten. We have to find him, we have to--" 

"How do you _know?"_ Clary demands, her voice strangely steady, her words strong and calm. 

Jace winces, heart in his throat. "Clary, he died in my arms. The--the explosion knocked me out before I could...could take care of him. But he's just gone." 

"Are you bit?" Simon blurts out in horror, immediately putting his hands on Jace to check him over. "He would have bit you, especially with the blood. You should be--"

"Dead," Jace whispers, blinking slowly. "I know. But, for some reason, he must have left me there. I promised him, Clary, I _promised_ I would take care of him. I--I never got the chance. I'm so sorry." 

Clary takes another solid step back, bumping right into Maia, who has to hastily lean Magnus over on Sebastian as Clary suddenly goes limp. Maia adjusts quickly, surging forward to catch Clary and hold her up, letting her cling as hard as she needs to. Clary doesn't cry, just stares blankly forward as she clutches at Maia and releases sharp, short breaths. 

"We'll find him," Alec says, but he doesn't sound so sure. "He's not down here, and neither are a third of the zombies. It's like the ones who survived the explosion just...got up and walked away?"

"Zombies don't walk away from a food source," Jace mumbles in exhaustion, his words slurring slightly, even as the pain in his head seems to be retracting slightly, turning hot and focusing solely on where his wound must be. "Not without reason. Someone _led_ them away." 

Magnus frowns at him. "You think someone is here?" 

"You don't?" Jace mutters. 

"Okay, _look,"_ Izzy snaps firmly, releasing a rattling cough, "we need to go, _now._ Jonathan isn't on this floor, so we'll work our way up until we find him. We're taking the elevator." 

With that, her head held high, Izzy marches away, leaving everyone else to stand around in abrupt stillness. She's always so headstrong, and she has the ability to push away emotions just like the rest of them. Jonathan is her best friend, and there's no doubt that she's doing her best not to show how much this hurts her. 

"Fray," Simon says gently, reaching out the one hand not touching Jace towards her, the fingers trembling as they brush her arm, "we have to go." 

Clary doesn't move for a long moment, still clinging to Maia like a lifeline with the absence of someone who doesn't care about _who's_ holding them, but simply needs to be held. Her eyes drift shut, squeezing, thin eyelids scrunching up from how tightly she forces them shut, like she's trying to block the rest of the world off and possibly escape it, the one where her little brother is dead. 

Then, all at once, her eyes snap open and she pulls away from Maia, standing tall. Her green eyes are empty, not a scrap of emotion in them, like she's lost her very essence, but she straightens her shoulders and presses her lips into a firm line. There's something truly horrific about that, about how she's not even allowed the time to feel her initial grief. She jerks back from Simon's touch, and without a word, she follows Izzy up the hall. 

"Simon," Jace croaks, "what happened to the cure?" 

"Clary still has it." Simon sounds drained, his voice hollow and somber, no doubt thinking of Jonathan and Clary's state. "It's in her bag." 

There's nothing to say, so Jace doesn't speak. He's adjusted to the pain in his head, nothing more than a muted throb at the site of the wound now, and it can't compare to the pain and guilt he feels when faced with the loss of Jonathan. Like Clary, he pulls away from Simon and sets his jaw, ignoring the weak jitters that travel through all his limbs as he forces himself to head to the elevator. 

The others follow, Sebastian lugging a weary Magnus along, while Maia matches Alec stride for stride. They all get in the elevator, no one saying a word as Izzy furiously stabs at the number one, her face twisted with bitter anger. The doors shut with its usual cheerful ding, and Jace thinks, stupidly, that the sound of it might push him to tears.

It should be a short ride, but it isn't. Only moments after they start rising, the elevator gives a jolt, making all of them reach out to grab each other. The number one goes dim, and the three lights up. 

"What's happening?" Alec asks sharply. 

"I don't know!" Izzy shouts, jabbing the number one forcefully, but it stays stubbornly unlit. 

They all fall silent as the elevator continues to rise, ticking past the first floor, then the second, and finally stopping on the third. The doors open with a ding, and this time, Jace only feels suspicion. Carefully, they all file out into the hallway, weapons drawn, equally all on edge. 

The hallway is empty. Before they can even take a step, a buzzer rings out and a door about mid-way down the hall swings open. 

"Still don't think someone else is here?" Jace asks tightly, his heart racing in his chest. 

Clary grits out, "If that's not an invitation, I don't know what is. Come on." 

"Clary, wait," Sebastian says firmly, reaching out to grasp her arm, only to recoil when she whirls on him with a baleful glare. There's a _deep_ distaste in her eyes, the green suddenly lit with emotion once more, but it's not anything good. 

It's hatred. 

"Don't _touch_ me," she hisses, jerking her arm from Sebastian's grip. "I wanted to go after Jonathan, but _you_ stopped me. You pulled me into a room and kept me from my brother. And whoever is in that room might be the reason he's--the reason my little brother is _dead._ You won't stop me ever again. In fact, don't you _dare_ even talk to me again." 

Sebastian's face shutters off, suddenly wiping clean of emotion, and he simply nods tersely. There's a brief flash of pain and regret in his eyes, but he blinks and it's gone. Jace, inexplicably, finds himself pitying Sebastian. 

Clary starts towards the door, and they follow her silently, knowing better than to try and stop her now. But the room is empty when they enter it, and Jace stares around with a frown. It's like all the other rooms, filled with science equipment and very neat. 

Just as he's beginning to think that he might've been wrong, the door they'd entered through suddenly shuts with a clang, and they all whirl around. 

Jace's eyes land on the culprit, and his heart drops. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I can't actually tell you who the moodboard is for in these notes, buuuut...go check it out after the first paragraph on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface
> 
> With that, let me just thank the few of you who have been commenting and have been encouraging. I put a lot of work into this fic and fell in love with it as I wrote it. Honestly, the entire experience was magical, and it really does feel so nice to know that people are enjoying it! So, seriously, thank you so much ❤
> 
> Enjoy :)

He's older than Jace remembers, but that's fair. It has been over a decade since he last laid eyes on his father. He's bald now, wrinkles framing his eyes, lips cracked like he hasn't drank water in a while. His eyes are wide and wild, a frenzied look flickering in them, and he's washed out, like he hasn't seen the sun in a very long time. 

"Father?" Jace breathes out, eyebrows wrinkling in confusion, feeling like he's been punched in the chest. "How are you--" 

"You _blew up_ my hallway!" Valentine bellows, ignoring Jace altogether. He looks downright _furious,_ but only for a moment. Calm suddenly steals over him, erratically, unnaturally. "For which I'm willing to forgive, should you give me what you _stole."_

"This is your dad?" Simon mutters, taking a step back and flinching when Valentine's wild eyes flick to him. "I--I thought he was dead." 

"Not my biological father." Jace swallows thickly and stares at his--at the man who raised him. "My real parents died when I was only a toddler. I was adopted before the Lightwoods took me, up until I was ten years old when--when _he_ died." 

"Oh, I didn't die," Valentine says calmly, almost casually. He shrugs. "I faked it. I got what I wanted from you and pawned you off to the Lightwoods. Who do you think reached out anonymously to let them know you were back in the system? I was fond of you, I didn't want you to be homeless, and I knew Maryse and Robert would take you in because of Stephen and Celene."

Jace swallows thickly, a rush of memories hitting him all at once. Being raised by Valentine, then coming home to find his house burnt to the ground, and with it--supposedly--his adopted father. He'd spent about a week in an orphanage before Maryse and Robert came to adopt him. He was only ten. 

"You were _fond_ of me?" Jace whispers in horrified disbelief that quickly turns to anger. "You burnt down my _home_ with everything I loved in it! In-including _you."_

"I had other matters to attend to." Valentine arches an eyebrow and rakes his gaze over Jace. "Maryse and Robert seemed to take care of you just fine." 

"How do you know them?" Izzy asks harshly, anger brimming in her words. 

Valentine looks over at her. "Isabelle Lightwood," he muses softly. "You look very much like your mother when she was younger." 

Alec makes a small sound of annoyance. "If you're Jace's first adopted father, how do you know our parents?" 

"They worked for me," Valentine says simply, raising a finger and circling it. "In this very room, on certain occasions, in fact." 

Clary gasps. "Y-you were the third owner!" 

"I thought you died?" Magnus murmurs. 

Valentine snorts. "Of course they assumed that. They _wanted_ me to be dead. It was nothing, you know, to disappear. I lived out in that cabin, only working down here in the basement, watching the others carry on with Hodge as my eyes." 

Izzy looks distraught. "And you've been here this whole time? After the--the outbreak?" 

"Where else would I go?" Valentine says sharply.

"They let you adopt me?" Jace blurts out, unable to fathom that any one of the adults--Luke, Maryse, Jocelyn, and even Robert--would be okay with letting a child go with a man who they believed to be mentally unstable. Looking back on his childhood, he knows they were right. 

"They didn't know. After your parents died in a car crash, you were _supposedly_ taken in by a relative. No one thought to question it, and everyone was already dealing with my _"death"_ that had taken place only shortly after your parents'," Valentine explains, waving a careless hand. "I moved us somewhere secluded. I watched you on the monitors, looking at that picture, Jace. You remember that place, and I know you remember the days I would leave you alone there. You were just a child, and everyone else was dealing with their own children. You would have been a burden. I did them a favor taking you in." 

Jace clenches a fist and says nothing. 

"He was _never_ a burden," Alec snaps. He takes a step forward and glares at Valentine. "You're the reason this disease happened. _You_ did this." 

"Yes," Valentine says placidly, and that's all he says. 

Maia releases a deep breath. _"Why?"_ she whispers. 

Valentine wrinkles his nose. "It started out good, as most things do. But the others, they never saw the potential that I did. It was a _glorious_ breakthrough, but people couldn't see it for what it was. Though man-made, it was a gift from nature. You couldn't possibly understand what it was like to find this strain, to see it grow into more. I was going to do great things, and I did." 

"You took blood samples from _children,"_ Magnus grits out, standing on his own two feet, lip curled up in disgust as he glares at Valentine. 

"I did," Valentine agrees, and his lips twitch like there's an inside joke that they're missing. "Five little kids, all of which who helped bring the world to its knees, who allowed the strain to reach its full potential as it was meant to."

"Did you take those kids from their parents, too?" Maia spits. "You filthy fucking--" 

"No, no, of course not," Valentine says with a cool laugh, the sound like shattering glass, his voice a parched croak. "Their parents let me have them. Let me pick them up from school, let me watch over them, let me take care of them. And why wouldn't they? After all, I had my own kids." 

"Me," Jace whispers, stunned. 

"Wrong." Valentine shakes his head in blatant disappointment. "You weren't mine, not back then. I did watch over you, though. You, and Alexander, and Isabelle, and Clarissa, and Jonathan." 

Five little kids. 

A silence descends on the room, settling around them thickly. Sick horror washes through Jace as he realizes what Valentine means. And suddenly, he understands why this place gives him the creeps, why he's so unsettled in this building. He was only a _child,_ they all were, and Valentine had brought them in to take their blood, to--to ruin the world. 

"No," Izzy chokes out. 

"Yes," Valentine says, sounding amused. "I must thank you. I always used to, you know. When I gave you snacks and smoothed your bandaids down, I always made sure to thank you all. So young, so happy to help, so eager to feel grown and keep secrets for me. So _trustworthy."_

Clary takes a step forward, her chest expanding, fury blazing in her eyes. "My mother would _never_ allow that to happen!" 

"Ah, well, she didn't know. None of your parents did. I knew they'd never agree to it, and towards the end, they stopped letting me get any of you at all." Valentine looks at Clary thoughtfully. "Jocelyn was distraught when she found out--the only one who did. I shouldn't have brought my work home." 

"What?" Clary jolts like she's been slapped, face draining of color. "What did you just say?" 

Valentine looks at her blankly, something missing in his eyes, something empty. "She wouldn't let me anywhere near you or Jonathan after that, and she threatened to tell the others if I didn't stop. I had what I needed, though, so I stopped. She left me, dropped the company, forced me out of our home and the lives of our children--sweet Clarissa and her beloved little brother, Jonathan. I never saw you two again, after that, because of your mother." 

Clary's entire body trembles. "You're my…" 

"Father, yes," Valentine confirms lazily, his smile lacking warmth. "I can only imagine why your mother never told you, or Luke, or Maryse, or Robert. You're my child. You, Jonathan, and Jace." 

Another stark, abrasive silence. Clary reaches up to cover her mouth, openly horrified, and Jace's head spins. He looks over at Alec and Izzy, seeing his shock and dismay echoed on their faces. 

To think that, all along, they're entwined in this way. It's baffling, nearly unfathomable, fucking _insanity._ He remembers the first time Maryse found out that her children had made friends with Clary and Jonathan in school, and the way she'd swayed and gripped the counter as she'd asked their last names makes sense now. She'd been so wary, at first, to let them all be friends, and she'd demanded to talk to their mother, to Jocelyn. Jace wonders how that conversation went, wonders if they came to the agreement to keep things buried and let their children be happy, wonders if they regretted it. 

The fact that they're the kids whose blood helped create the disease is heart-wrenchingly devastating. They'd been too young to remember the blood samples, probably had blocked it out entirely, just little kids who thought nothing of it and never thought of it again after it stopped. And, here they are, the fucking reason the world has ended. 

"You're insane. You're actually freaking insane," Simon blurts, the words punching out of him, and he sounds genuinely stunned. 

Valentine looks at him coldly, like he believes Simon isn't worth the dirt beneath his shoes. "I have spent most of my life ensuring that my greatest scientific breakthrough did not go in vain. I lost _everything!_ My best friend, my wife, my children...all because I sensed the greatness in this project!" 

"And for _what?!"_ Maia screeches, jerking forward like she wants to attack Valentine, only coming to a halt when Izzy holds her back. "You ruined lives, the world, _everything!_ What glory did you get? How did your fucking breakthrough serve you? There's no one _left,_ no one to give you an award, no one who wouldn't kill you where you fucking stand. Your wife and son are _DEAD_ because of you!" 

"I needed no glory, no recognition, no praise." Valentine's lips twist as he stares at Maia like she's nothing more than a gnat in his ear. "It was enough for me to know that I'd succeeded. I believed in it, in _this._ This was inevitable. As for Jocelyn and Jonathan...I'm unsurprised to hear of what's happened to them. We're all going to die to this, as we should, even me." 

"There was talk of...experimental injections," Sebastian says carefully, swallowing thickly. 

"Ah, yes." Valentine nods dutifully and heaves a deep sigh. "I should have expected that to be the first thing that they told you all. There were injections. Diluted versions of the strain, a mere piece of the strain mixed with other things, all in the name of science. It made me better, aided me in my breakthrough. It doesn't take much to sustain me anymore, not as much as it takes most, because I'm already half-dead, I believe. It's like...taking in weaker versions of the virus to grow used it." 

Magnus makes a sound of disgust. "You are a vile man. A truly despicable character. All in the name of science? _Science?_ You've aided in murdering millions of people; you're _why_ everything has happened." 

"So are they," Valentine murmurs softly, his lips curling up as he jerks his chin towards each of the five he'd gotten blood samples from. "In fact, each of their blood had certain roles. Alexander's and Isabelle's, specifically, mixed together helped bulk the strand, strengthen it. Those zombies out there in the woods? Surely you all saw them. You can thank them for how advanced they are." 

Alec stares stonily at Valentine, nostrils flaring. "You used mine and my sister's _blood_ to create those--those monsters?" 

"Amazing, isn't it?" Valentine smiles at him, seemingly grateful. "Clary's blood was helpful as well. It stabilized the decay, making sure it _stuck,_ so to speak, ensuring the body would continue on despite the rot. And oh, Jonathan…" His voice turns reverent, softening. "Jonathan is the reason all of this is even possible." 

"Shut up," Clary says tightly, the words barely escaping through clenched teeth. 

Valentine stares at her. "I saw him. On the monitors where I've been watching you all. He's dead now, though. I'm guessing the zombies didn't fail me entirely before you blew them up. At least they got one of you." He tilts his head when Clary's tiny frame rattles with rage. "It's fitting, I suppose. That he be the one they managed to get to. He is, after all, the reason they exist. It was his blood that bred the mutation that made all of this reality." 

Clary clenches her fists. "Shut up!" she shouts again. 

"Denying the truth won't convince it to become a lie. Jonathan's blood is the reason that there's a zombie apocalypse at all. These _deaths_ you blame me for? He's the one who is truly at fault." Valentine takes a step forward, lips curling up into a smirk. "That's right, Clarissa. Your brother, my _son,_ died at the hands of the very thing he helped create. Irony at its finest. Frankenstein was always his favorite bedtime story." 

"SHUT UP!" Clary screams, her hand swinging up lightning fast, the metallic chrome of her gun glinting in the beaming lights of the room as she points it directly at Valentine's forehead. Her hands do not shake, and she suddenly seems calm, her voice softening as she speaks again. "Just shut up. You don't get to talk about Jonathan." 

"Clary," Simon says urgently, his eyes darting around in fear, hands raising slowly, "put the gun down." 

"Why?" Clary doesn't even twitch, her eyes locked on her own father. Her face is blank. "Why should I?" 

Alec takes a careful step forward, stepping up beside her. He doesn't attempt to reach for the gun, doesn't even look at her, just stands beside her. "He's human, Clary," he says calmly. "And your father." 

Wrong thing to say. 

"He's a _monster,"_ Clary hisses, eyes fixed on Valentine like a lion about to pounce. "He's the reason Jonathan is dead. _Luke_ is my dad, always has been, not this sad excuse for a human being." 

"You'll never be the same," Alec informs her softly, his words measured. "You'll be taking a life, even if it's a worthless life. It will haunt you forever, and you--Clary, you'll never come back from it." 

Clary doesn't waver. "I'm okay with that." 

"Alright," Alec says simply, pausing to look at the side of her face. He reaches out to wrap his hand around the back of her neck, and with a rare show of support and tenderness, he dips down to drop a kiss off on the top of her head. Clary doesn't react, and he takes a step back. "Do what you have to do." 

No one protests, no one even moves, and Jace keeps waiting for any source of uncertainty. A part of him thinks he should try and stop this, at least for Clary's sake. She's never killed anyone, outside of zombies. Most of them have, like Jace, Izzy, Magnus, and Alec--probably Maia and Sebastian, if he had to guess. But they've only killed people because they had no other choice, people who were trying to kill them, and Alec is right; you're never really the same after that. 

But...that part of him is very tiny. He thinks of five little kids who were dragged into destruction before their innocence thought to stop it. That part of him shrinks. He thinks about being raised by Valentine, about the trauma and abuse, about the therapy he'd had to go through to bounce back from it, about how he still has issues to this day because of it...and that small part of him shrivels. He thinks about the people who've died, who they've lost--Jocelyn, Alaric, Jonathan--and that part of him disappears entirely. 

Valentine seems to realize, all at once, that no one will stop his own daughter from killing him. He holds up his hands in surrender and says, "Clarissa, I wouldn't do that if I were you." 

Clary cocks her gun. 

"I can cure Jonathan," Valentine murmurs, his eyes locked on Clary's. "I have the intelligence to do it. No one knows more about this virus than me. Except for, possibly, your mother. And she found the cure, or knows how to make it. Clarissa, I can and _will_ create it to save him. You just have to give it to me."

"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Clary asks harshly, her words cold and sharp. "Jonathan is _dead._ Gone. Because of you." 

"I never told you what Jace's blood did," Valentine says calmly. 

Clary doesn't put the gun down. "I don't care at this particular moment." 

"I do," Jace says softly, looking at his father. "My blood, what was its role?" 

Valentine's lips twitch. "There was a certain component in the virus needed to keep it from spreading too much and killing its host. Your blood, it seems, was great at trapping it. That was at its strongest, not filtered through the undead host, which stands to reason that you're immune from a bite. One, maybe two, at a time and you could walk away unharmed from such a small dosage. You contained the virus, son, and in doing so, it's with certainty that I tell you that your blood is impregnable. Meaning that you, Jace, are immune." 

Jace's heart drops as multiple people inhale sharply. He takes a staggering step back, heart thumping heavily in his chest as he processes his father's words. Immune. Him. _Immune._ That must mean--

"Immunity," Izzy breathes out. "The note! Jace, the note was talking about _you!"_

She sounds relieved, and Jace can't understand why. How could any of them not hate him now? All the bites that people have died from, bites he could have taken to ensure the others would have survived. His throat clogs with guilt, and his mind swiftly turns back to Jonathan. He should have jumped first, and Jace should have taken that bite. 

"I don't see what that has anything to do with curing Jonathan," Clary snaps. 

Valentine scowls at her. "You impolitic, insouciant little girl," he growls. "Do you think I was oblivious to your mother returning here, working on her own little project? _Project Angel,_ she called it. I made sure to stay out of her way, never interfering, but I knew all about it. She kept it under wraps, kept it safe and protected. But I knew her, knew she'd make sure there were people out there who'd know how to get to it. And who better than her own children? Just in case she could never return here, in case she didn't make it, she made sure that her children could. I have been waiting for _four years_ to get that cure, and I will have it." 

"No," Clary says firmly, "you won't." 

"If you want Jonathan to be cured, then yes, I will," Valentine replies, lips curling up into a smirk. 

Clary just stares at him, a certain calm taking over her face, almost as if she's found a small slice of peace to settle in. Words as soft as a breeze, she murmurs, "Jonathan is dead." 

Then, without an ounce of hesitation or indecision, she pulls the trigger. 

Valentine's head snaps back, his body falling to the floor in a slump, a small trickle of blood sliding down from the bullethole in his forehead. His eyes stare up glassily, unseeing, absent. Dead. 

Clary pulls her hand down slowly and slips her gun back into its holster, simply staring at Valentine's face without any emotion on her own. She's not rattled in the least and, in fact, seems to be relishing in the sight of her dead father. 

Jace looks at the empty shell of a father he's long gotten used to being dead, and he feels nothing. 

"Jesus Christ, Clary," Simon whispers, reaching up with a shaking hand to cover his mouth. 

"He deserved it," Jace murmurs hoarsely. 

Simon's head whips around to stare at him, his eyes wide. "Well, yeah, but--" 

"Simon," Clary says sharply, and Simon goes quiet. She carefully shrugs her bag off her shoulder, finally ripping her gaze from Valentine. "I looked at it briefly when the lights came back on, while Izzy was making the bomb." 

"You made the bomb?" Jace asks, vaguely impressed. 

Izzy smiles sheepishly. "There were a lot of chemicals. And, as someone who learned what chemicals to mix to get high, and the ones _not_ to, I was sure I could make a small bomb. Well, that, and I'm actually scarily good at science." 

"Apt," Magnus says with a snort. 

"The cure isn't for the zombies," Clary says, drawing the safe out of her bag, her eyes downcast as her throat bobs. "Jonathan can't--he won't make it back from the bite; he's gone. Valentine knew there was a cure, and knew it had something to do with Jace, but he didn't know _what_ it was." 

Jace clears his throat. "Do you? Did you look at it, I mean?" he asks carefully. 

"I did." Clary's lips tremble as she pulls out a file that's bowed in from being rolled up to fit into the safe. She swallows. "It does have to do with you, I think, but I didn't get to read it all in time. I think--Jace, I think you should be the one to read it." 

She offers him the file, and Jace slowly reaches out to take it. He holds it for a moment, just staring at it, and he almost doesn't want to open it. This is a _cure._ A cure that he's, somehow, involved in. Why wouldn't Jocelyn say something before? Why not work to make the cure? 

It must be something bad. 

Jace swallows and slowly opens the file, the first page labeled _Project Angel_ , his heart hammering in his chest as he reads through it, very aware of everyone watching him in thick silence. But, as he reads on, everyone else disappears, and he gets lost in Jocelyn's words. Most of the words are typed, but she's left little notes in the margins, comments and thoughts. 

_For Jace and Jonathan to be so close,_ Jocelyn wrote, _their blood couldn't be more different--almost repulsed by each other. Where Jonathan's blood brings life to the virus, Jace's blood kills it._

She never writes anything negative about Jonathan, nor does she show much emotion in her notes. Most of them are clinical and simple observations. He reads, getting lost in it, slowly taking in the process Jocelyn went through to find a cure. It turns out she hadn't been sure, in the beginning, and it had taken her a long time to realize Jace's role in it. 

That's putting it lightly. 

Jace doesn't have a role in the cure; he _is_ the cure. 

The reason he's immune is because his blood completely cleanses the disease entirely, eradicating it. His samples had been diluted with a small mixture of Clary and Jonathan's blood when put with the virus, making sure it would just contain it rather than eat it away. One page after the other, Jace reads faster and faster, his heart in his throat, and when he reaches the last page, he inhales sharply. 

Suddenly, he knows precisely why Jocelyn never used him as a cure. 

_The farther the disease has spread,_ Jocelyn wrote, _the harder Jace's blood will work to erase it. It could erode the veins, stop blood flow, and lead to death. A cure for the disease doesn't mean a cure for death._

Jace's eyes sting, a horrible hopelessness coming ruthlessly to grip his heart and _squeeze._ He's no good. He's immune _and_ the cure, and he can't even save anyone anyway. Blinking rapidly, he holds his breath as he reads on to the end. 

And farther down, the last note that Jocelyn has left reads: _Hypothetically, Jace could save someone from a bite in a quick situation. But the disease moves fast. It would have to be mere minutes from the bite to the blood injection, and that's highly unlikely to be possible. In the case of a virus outbreak, no one can learn of this--people would put a price on his head, hunt him, drain him dry just to try. No one can know, least of all Jace. He'd bleed for the world, bleed until he had nothing else to give._

Jace stares at the words until they blur in front of him, tears gathering in his eyes, something crumbling within him that makes him feel like he's small all of a sudden. He wishes, just for a moment, that he could sink to the ground and curl into a ball, shutting out the world, his own problems, and silence his mind for awhile--he hasn't had that urge since he was thirteen and still going to therapy. 

Abruptly, he snaps the file closed and blinks, hating the tears that fall down his cheeks. He looks up, and the others are staring at him, openly moved and concerned by his sorrow. 

"Jace?" Simon whispers. 

"She should have cut me open like a pig and bled me dry," Jace says harshly, ashamed to hear his voice crack as he speaks. 

Everyone recoils in shock, and he can't stand it, can't stand any of this. He's not built for this. It's about survival, this world, and right now...he feels scarily close to giving up. The inside of his chest aches. He can feel an oncoming breakdown like an approaching tsunami, and he desperately needs to get away. 

Without another word, Jace drops the file to the floor, pivots on the spot, and walks away. He steps over his lifeless father's body and leaves the others behind as he flees. 

No one calls out to him. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, folks! Hope you're having a good Saturday so far (or whatever day you're reading this on). 
> 
> For this chapter, I have a Clabastian (Clary/Sebastian) Moodboard! Go check it out on my tumblr: jimonsprettyface
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy ;)

His time alone only lasts for a few moments. He knows better than to go too far and simply walks a little way up the hall and sinks down to the floor against the wall. Closing his eyes, he tilts his head back and breathes. 

Not too long after that, he hears the others pad out of the room and all come stand around him. He refuses to open his eyes to look at them, somehow expecting their anger or resentment--which is founded. He's already raging at himself, resenting his own immunity and lack of curing ability. All those people, all they've lost, and all they needed was his _blood._

It feels like they've come on this long journey for no reason, and now Jonathan is dead because of it. They've been injured, hungry, scared...and for _what?_ Just to find out that they were part of the catalyst to the end of the world, to find out that Valentine is a piece of shit dad and an even bigger piece of shit human, to find out that the parents they trusted and looked up to used to be a part of something that eventually ruined everything. 

A voice in his head, sounding scarily close to Simon, whispers _to know the truth, to meet Sebastian and Maia, to fall in love when you all held back before._

Jace ignores it. 

When it becomes apparent that he's not going to open his eyes and acknowledge them, the others all arrange themselves around him, sitting in a cramped circle right next to him to wait him out. Distantly, he's thankful for them. 

His mind flits back to Clary. She must be devastated, suffering a great loss, and here she is, sitting out here as a silent form of comfort for him. It makes him feel sick with guilt, aware that they'd all be looking for Jonathan if he could just pull himself together. She lost her mother, and just recently her brother, and she killed her father mere moments ago--if anyone should be breaking down, it's her. 

But Jace can't _help it._ He's made it his responsibility to keep those he loves alive, ensuring they survive this world, and he's failed before. Everything they need is in him, is in his veins, and it still won't do any good. He's immune, but no one else is. He'll survive with ease while everyone around him, everyone he loves, will eventually be taken by this cruel world. 

He can't think of anything worse. 

"Jace." That's Simon, speaking finally, his voice soft and careful. "I know what you're thinking, we read the file, and you're _wrong."_

Jace's eyes snap open. "Oh yeah?" he rasps. "What's that? What, that you all must resent me for being immune? That I could have saved Jocelyn and Jonathan, but didn't? That all of you, my _family,_ will probably fucking die, while I'll have to go on, unable to suffer the same fate?" 

"Oh, piss off," Sebastian snaps, making multiple turn to look at him in shock. "Mate, I must have been mistaken; I'd assumed that _Magnus_ was the most dramatic in this group, but clearly, I've got it wrong. I haven't been here through everything, but it would take a moron to believe that any of us resent you for being immune. That's _good._ That's a relief to those who care about you. People who died? How could you save them if you didn't know? And we _did_ read the file; the likelihood of you saving them in time was very low anyway. Also, immunity doesn't mean indestructible--you could be ripped apart by zombies just like the rest of us. So, stop being a self-centered prick and _get over it!"_

Jace is on his feet in seconds, shoving Alec away and getting right in Sebastian's face--or trying to, as Sebastian is much taller. "No, you piss off, _mate._ You don't know a damn thing about me, or any of us, or what we've fucking been through! You're not even supposed to be here!" 

"But I _am,"_ Sebastian says with a sharp smile, spreading his arms wide. "I am, and I have been, and what? Should I thank you for making it this far? Is it because of you that I'm alive? How fucking high-and-mighty you must be to think you're in charge of the lives around you!" 

Jace knows, somewhere in a distant part of his mind, that Sebastian is goading him. He can tell by the smug curl of his lips, the flash of challenge in his eyes, the way he holds himself out like an open target. Jace doesn't know why, and at the peak of his rage, he doesn't really care. 

Everything tunnels in on this moment when he's so angry, so fucking _pissed off_ with the world and everything that's happened, and nothing else exists past it. Sebastian isn't wrong, exactly, and Jace knows that...vaguely. But that doesn't matter when he's being a grade A asshole who's practically begging to get punched in the face, and just so happens, Jace _really_ wants to punch something. 

Sebastian's face will do. And it does. 

Jace hauls off and punches him, making Sebastian grunt and stumble back. From behind them, multiple people start protesting, and Jace can feel hands coming out to try and stop him. He shakes them off and surges forward with a growl, his aching fist raising once more. Sebastian smiles at him with blood in his teeth and hits him back, right across the jaw, and Jace just fucking _takes it._

They fight then, _really_ fight, and it feels good. It shouldn't, he knows that, but there's a relief in it. Releasing his anger at the unfairness of everything on someone, anyone, and getting his ass kicked in the process...it's liberating, in a way. Every punch he gives feels cathartic, and every punch he takes feels like penance, and it's just _good._

"STOP!" 

Jace is jerked back roughly, slammed harshly against a wall, and he blinks rapidly in surprise. Alec has him by the front of his shirt, pinning him in place with one finger raised in warning, and he looks downright _furious._ He's never looked so genuinely pissed off before, and it's actually kind of terrifying. Jace snaps his mouth shut, feeling his face throb, not saying a word as Alec glares at him. 

Sebastian and Jace, in perfect unison, spit the blood out of their mouths and settle down almost immediately. They both have marks and split knuckles, but Jace can see the calm sweep over Sebastian, the same calm he feels come over him. They'll be bruised and that's just fine; it'll go ignored from them both, because this was worth it. 

This brief relief from the pain. Jace, with his guilt and fear. Sebastian, with his anger and rejection. This thing with the cure, with feeling like a failure, it fucks up Jace the same way that Clary being so harsh and unforgiving fucks up Sebastian. 

Jace stares at him, and Sebastian stares back, and an understanding passes between them. 

"Don't you _ever_ do that again," Alec hisses, his eyes blazing. "We do not do that! We're a fucking _family,_ and we don't use each other as punching bags!" 

"That goes for you, too," Maia says sharply, the one who has Sebastian backed up against the opposite wall, her fingers wrapped lightly around his throat to hold him in place. "These people have been nothing but kind to us. They've fed us, sheltered us, watched out for us. They care about us, and I know we _both_ care about them, and this is how you repay them?" 

Sebastian's face is already swelling around his jaw, dark red dusting with purple as bruises form. He raises his gaze to Jace's. "I know what he needed," he says simply. 

Jace's heart clenches in his chest. God, that's such a horrible thing...but it's _true._ Because he already feels better, his head finally clear so he can think of Sebastian's words from before properly and understand that they're true. His frustration and rage is gone now, having had an outlet, and he can see what everyone has been trying to tell him. It's a raw, animalistic thing to need to release his anger on live flesh and blood while his own took a beating, but it's incredibly human as well. In a very strange way, that's almost as reassuring as it is embarrassing. 

"Thanks," Jace says, ignoring Alec completely to nod at Sebastian. 

_"Boys,"_ Izzy mutters in disgust. 

Simon grumbles as he stares at Jace in disapproval, wrinkling his nose. "Don't loop me, Alec, or Magnus into their stupidity. We all need fucking therapy." 

"Yeah, well, that's going to have to wait," Clary says sharply, her tone tense with worry, and that gets everyone's attention. Her eyes fixate on the stairwell door, peering through the small window there. She pulls out her daggers. "We've got company." 

"Jonathan?" Alec asks warily. 

Clary stiffly backs up from the door. "No, but there's at least ten coming up the stairs, probably more." 

"Elevator?" Magnus asks. 

"Valentine shut it down," Izzy says tersely, walking over to the elevator to press the call button to no avail. "He didn't want us to leave." 

Alec sighs. "Alright. The bomb Izzy made took out a good portion of the horde anyway. We were going to run into the rest eventually while looking for Jonathan. Might as well handle it now." 

"Are you good?" Maia asks Sebastian. 

Sebastian swings up his machete and smiles at her, winking. "Never better." 

"Jace?" Alec checks. 

"I'm fine," Jace assures him. 

Alec's head snaps over to Magnus. "Can you fight?" 

"Of course, darling," Magnus tells him, standing to full height and grasping his lance. "My wound is still healing, but adrenaline is magical--I'll fight, and I'll fight very well." 

"Get ready," Clary warns, backing up from the stairwell just as the door begins to rattle. 

It's chaos, but facing a compact group that outnumbers them always is. The zombies come bursting forth with groans and starving rasps, rotted limbs surging towards them with a mindlessness that never stops being horrifying. It's more than ten, probably closer to twenty, and Jace's mind wipes clean as he raises his blade and goes to work. 

A part of him aches to know that Jonathan isn't next to him, the sound of his own blade sinking into skulls. It only fuels Jace's determination to slice all the undead down, his heart twisting in his chest for the family member they've lost. 

This is possibly the only moment Jace can't and doesn't try to keep track of his group--that split second of worry could cost lives. But, even in the background, he's aware of the sounds of them fighting. Izzy's bat sending zombies flying, Clary grunting, a whirlwind as she slices with a dagger and shoots her gun with her free hand, Magnus' labored breathing as he fights through his pain. Alec's arrows whiz by to shoot down zombie after zombie, and undead heads roll when Sebastian's machete cuts them down, and distantly, Jace can hear the sound of Maia and Simon throwing commentary back and forth while they fight together. 

And then, suddenly, calm approaches. There are no longer zombies in front of him, just strewn body parts in various states of decay. Magnus and Alec stand a few feet before him, and they all whirl in unison to see the remaining fight carry out. Maia and Simon seem to be taking down their last zombie while Izzy finally stops swinging her bat. Sebastian has his back to Clary, swiping his machete in a wide arc with a grin as the zombie goes down, decapitated. The last zombie lunges for Clary, who sidesteps it. 

It all seems to happen too quickly, and it's far too late to do anything. Clary hadn't known Sebastian was behind her, and getting out of the path of it had left him vulnerable. As he turns, the zombie reroutes and launches itself at him, mouth yawning wide as he raises his arm in alarm, far too late, and they all watch as the zombie's mouth clamps down on his forearm. Clary is there immediately, shoving her dagger through the back of its skull and yanking it free, but...the damage is done. 

"Oh," Sebastian says slowly, blinking down at the bite like he can't understand why it's there, and he stumbles back against the wall to hunch down as the zombie lands at his feet. 

Clary sucks in a deep breath and moves over, her shaking hands reaching out like she can wipe the bite away. "No," she breathes out. "No, no, _no._ This isn't--I didn't mean for that to happen. This can't be happening." 

"It's alright," Sebastian says calmly, looking up from the bite to smile at her. "It's a bit ugly, isn't it? Doesn't hurt that much, though."

"Sebastian…" Clary looks up at him with tears in her eyes, her throat working. 

The silence stretches on for a moment, everyone somber as tragedy strikes yet again. Izzy rushes away like she can't stand to see this, and some selfish part of Jace wishes he could join her, but he forces himself to watch. Guilt eats at him--if only Jace had taken that bite, Sebastian would be _fine._

"I'm sorry I can't follow you home," Sebastian tells her softly, gazing at her adoringly. 

Clary's face crumbles, scrunching up as her tears fall freely. She's always been an ugly-crier, like most people are, and the sight of it always feels like a punch to the gut. Her lips tremble and she turns blotchy as she shakes her head, one of her hands raising to press the backs of her fingers to her lips, the sobs she's desperately trying to hang onto hiccuping out of her. 

"Why? Why _you?"_ Clary gasps out, her whole body trembling. "Not you, not--not after… Sebastian, I can't do this, I can't lose you, too. I--I can't--" 

"Hush now," Sebastian chides her gently, reaching out with his unmarked arm to lightly swipe at the tears on her cheeks. He stares at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I am beyond thankful that I joined you all on this journey, you know. Meeting you and spending every waking second with you has been my greatest adventure. My only regret is that I've hurt you now, and before, with holding you back from your little brother." 

Clary's face clears and she reaches up to hastily wipe at her eyes. "Don't do that, don't apologize when I said horrible things to you, just don't," she whispers. "Don't tell me goodbye. I'm--I don't want you to go." 

"I told you I'd follow you anywhere, and I meant it. Until my last breath, I'll be with you," Sebastian murmurs, lips curling up as Clary's shoulders sag in open defeat and she drifts closer. 

"You would," she hisses firmly, tears still glittering in her eyes. "You'd do this to me, just to make me say it, just to hear me ask you to stay." 

"Brilliant girl," Sebastian teases, "you figured out my plan. Good on you." 

"You're a horrible person for--for making me fall for you and then leaving me," Clary croaks out, reaching up to cradle his cheeks and stare at him. 

Sebastian smiles at her sadly. "I know." 

"I _hate_ you," Clary says venomously, except everyone knows that she means the opposite, the words ripping out of her with hurt and frustration. 

"Oh, love…" Sebastian murmurs, looking at her fondly, hopelessly and shamelessly broadcasting his love for her on full blast. 

Clary makes some kind of sound, a furious whimper that somehow sounds trapped in her throat and loud in the silence, and she pushes herself on her tiptoes to mash her lips to Sebastian's. It's an angry sort of kiss, full of emotion, her hands sliding up to grip his hair while his palms cradle her cheeks. She's short enough that he has to stoop down to kiss her properly, her head tipping back while they plunder each other's mouths desperately, like they know they'll never get the chance to again. It's a harrowing sight, heartbreak spreading throughout everyone as they watch it unfold. 

Jace jolts when nails dig into his arms, and he blinks rapidly over at Izzy in surprise. She just holds up a needle, and he knows. 

It's a rush-job, and he has no idea how to do this properly, but he's desperate to do it. Izzy helps, both of them working together to draw his blood, the tube filling up more than it would at a doctor's office. He wants to give more, is willing to, but Izzy carefully pulls back the plunger and slides the needle out, offering him a hopeful nod. 

"It's always me who has to break the kisses up," she mutters as she stomps over to Clary and Sebastian. When they don't pull apart, she heaves a sigh and reaches out to grasp Clary's shoulder, hurriedly snatching her back. "Oh, for the love of--just _move!"_

"What are you doing?" Clarys asks, baffled. 

"Um, I'm kind of a walking cure, remember?" Jace calls out, worry and hesitation making his voice shake. 

Clary's eyes bulge. "If--if it's too late, the blood could kill him!" 

"He'll die _anyway,"_ Izzy says seriously, yanking on Sebastian's wrist to splay out his arm. "We have to try. Maybe--maybe this can work." 

"You're just _giving_ me your blood?" Sebastian asks Jace in faint surprise. He smirks. "We did just pummel each other moments ago." 

Jace huffs a nervous laugh. "Yeah, fun times. Next time, we'll work on your technique." 

"This is probably going to hurt," Izzy says, swallowing thickly as she holds the needle up, a slight tremor in her hands. 

"Directly into the bite?" Magnus asks warily. "Perhaps in the vein, Izzy?" 

Izzy shakes her head. "Straight to the source. The disease spreads fast and could spread too far before the transfusion could take effect. Sebastian, hold still and don't yank away." 

With that, she jabs the needle down and begins pressing the plunger down, keeping a firm grip on Sebastian's arm when he immediately hisses in pain. That hiss quickly becomes a groan, followed shortly by a hoarse shout of agony as he sinks down to the floor, Izzy grimacing as she follows in a crouch.

"Stop!" Sebastian tosses his head back and writhes in place, obviously in immense pain. "Stop it, Izzy! Stop, you're _hurting me!"_

Clary surges forward with a pitiful sound like maybe she's in pain too, her intentions to _make_ Izzy stop very clear, but Maia and Simon jolt forward to wrap their arms around her and hold her back. The plunger finally goes all the way down, and Izzy pulls back the needle, her face twisted in worry. 

Sebastian slips father down, clutching at his bite as he groans, expression a mask of pain. It goes like that for a long moment, and Jace's heart races as he holds his breath, everyone else in the room seeming to do the same. And then it passes. Sebastian's face smooths out, his breathing going even and relaxed, body wracking with trembles. His fingers slip from his arm, revealing his bite. 

All of the air in Jace's lungs that he's been keeping trapped punches out of him. The bite is no longer black with disease, but a simple wound where teeth have broken the skin, and the small black veins that had surrounded it before have retracted. 

"Oh my god," Clary chokes out, stumbling forward when Maia and Simon let her go, dropping to her knees beside Sebastian. 

Sebastian's eyes flicker open and sweat clings to his forehead. He smiles wearily at her. "Still hate me, love?" he asks in a croak. 

Clary's entire body relaxes and she lets out a wet chuckle as she bends down over him to cup his face, sniffling. "You fucking asshole." 

_"Your_ fucking asshole," Sebastian corrects. 

"Yeah," Clary agrees softly, "mine." 

She ducks down to kiss him again, this time without an ounce of anger or grief, the contact seemingly sweet and gentle in its entirety. Jace feels like his heart is soaring, and he releases a deep breath of relief while everyone breaks out into smiles. 

For right now, there's a reason for hope. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment, a not-so-quiet moment, an epiphany, and revitalization. 
> 
> Moodboard for this chapter is Lightwood Sibling Moodboard! (Jace, included, obvi)
> 
> Enjoy ;)

"We can't leave," Alec declares. "It's too close to dawn to travel. We'll need to stay here." 

Alec has a point, Jace knows that, but he can't fucking _stand_ the idea of staying in this lab for any longer. In reality, he knows they're safe inside, but the place makes his skin crawl. He keeps his protests to himself, however. Everyone is exhausted, and they seriously need to refuel on food and rest. 

Alec has Simon and Maia pick a room, and they all work together to open up a space towards the back of the room with various desks and chairs in a wide arc around them as a barricade, just in case. They all pile up together, slumping against the wall and each other, drawing from their quickly deteriorating stock of food to get some kind of energy. The way it's looking, they'll probably run out of food before they make it home--possibly going to have to go a day or two without anything--but they're still good on water, thankfully, having restocked from the river in the woods before heading to the lab. Their _"meal"_ isn't really even that, something small to put on their stomachs, using their stock sparingly to attempt and make it stretch for longer. 

Magnus has wrapped Sebastian's wound and cleaned it, declaring that it looks disease-free, but he still seems tired from the exertion of it. But, at this point, everyone is drained and in desperate need of rest. 

Jace knows he should sleep, but finds that he can't. He's leaned up against the wall between Alec and Izzy, and Simon's already asleep with his head in his lap. Jace mindlessly drags his fingers through Simon's haphazard hair, the soft strands brushing his fingers in a soothing way, and he looks very peaceful where he's sleeping on Jace. 

Magnus is leaning on Alec's shoulder again, snoring quietly, his side rebandaged and doctored with what little supplies they have, courtesy of Izzy. Meanwhile, Izzy currently has Maia tucked into her side, their hair a mess of tangles, straight mixing with curly, forming into something almost mesmerizing to look at. Sebastian and Clary are sprawled out on the floor in front of them, both of their heads resting on Alec's crossed legs, beside Simon. It's actually kind of cute because, originally, Clary and Sebastian had started out cuddling, but now Sebastian seems to have both Clary and Simon curled into either side of him, his arms thrown around both of them. 

"You mind?" Izzy mumbles, getting Jace's attention as she jerks her chin at his shoulder. 

Jace gives a half-shrug. "No, it's fine. Get some sleep, Izzy," he murmurs. 

"Can't," Izzy replies with a sigh, her head dropping over to his shoulder. "Too much to think about. But I'd like to be comfortable while I do it." 

"You thinking about Jonathan?" Jace asks, his throat bobbing. 

Izzy hums. "He's gone, and I just--it's stupid, but I keep thinking about when he found out about my addiction. I remember that day. He was so matter-of-fact, and almost... _harsh_ about it. He asked me what color I wanted my casket to be." 

Jace blinks in surprise. "Really?"

"He knew I needed a reality check," Izzy murmurs, huffing a short laugh. "Well, that, and it hurt him. He was my best friend and I--I lied to him. Jonathan never got scared of anything, but that day, I could tell how scared he was for me." 

"You two were really close." Jace frowns slightly. Sometimes, he forgets just how _close_ Izzy and Jonathan have always been, their friendship so casual and without much drama that it can be easy to overlook. "He--he made me promise to look after Clary, you know. And he wanted me to tell you that he'd miss you, that he was making good on his promise to take your secrets to his grave." 

"Sounds like him." Izzy gives a soft sigh and reaches out to loop her hand through Jace's elbow. "I'll take his secrets to my grave, too." 

"He'd be so annoyed that we're so torn up about it," Alec speaks up, and Jace hadn't even been aware that he was still awake. "He was always so practical. I mean, he probably knew we would be, but I doubt he'd be happy about it." 

"I wonder how he'd feel about Valentine," Jace muses with a grimace. "He'd probably have wanted to kill him, just like Clary." 

"Valentine was a sorry excuse for a human," Izzy says firmly. She pauses. "He--he was the one who treated you so horribly, Jace." 

"I didn't know it was that bad until I came to live with your family," Jace admits, clearing his throat, looking down at Simon's sleeping face. "He wasn't bad all the time, just...unstable. Known for bouts of erratic anger that wasn't deserved--my therapist used to tell me that I didn't deserve it, anyway. Took me a good number of years to realize she was right." 

"Your therapist, what was her name again?" Alec murmurs. "I always liked her. She made house calls when you were having night terrors." 

"Dorothea, but she went by Dot." Jace snorts quietly. "Hell of a woman." 

"I wonder if she's still alive out there," Izzy murmurs. 

Jace hums. "Knowing her, probably. She would always tell me things about herself to try and make me feel comfortable. She was really resilient." 

"So are you," Alec says out of nowhere, his voice softening in a way it usually never does. "Jace, I know this trip hasn't been easy for you, for any of us, but it's not a complete failure. I know how you feel about failing, and you have to know that you haven't. You saved Sebastian today. You...you let yourself have a relationship with Simon. I'm proud of you." 

"I'm proud of all of us," Jace mumbles, warmth unfurling sweet and sticky in his chest from his best friend's genuine words. 

Izzy sighs sweetly. "Me too." 

"I, um… I'm really glad that I'm a part of your family," Jace whispers, blinking hard as he stares resolutely down at his fingers as they card through Simon's wavy curls. "I couldn't have asked for better siblings. Before, with Valentine, I always wanted to have a brother or a sister who were close to my age. I was lonely, I think, and young enough to wish I had friends who wouldn't ever leave me. And then, you know, there you two were, and I--well, I don't think I can thank either you enough for accepting me." 

Immediately after this vulnerable confession, Jace wants to sink into the floor and never resurface. They had to have known that already, but he's never blatantly said it like that before. It's the naked truth, and he thinks, after everything, they should hear it. 

"We love you, too," Izzy tells him sincerely, pressing into him tighter, squeezing his arm. 

Alec bumps his other shoulder, and they share a quick smile. After Valentine, this moment settles him, and he hadn't even been aware that he'd felt out of sorts about it. But now, between his brother and sister, surrounded by his family, he feels as if he's finally, after so long, slotting the last piece of his childhood into place and letting it go, finding peace with it and moving past it. 

It's easy to sleep after that. 

* * *

Jace jolts awake to the sound of someone shouting. When his eyes fly open, he immediately knows why. 

Zombies flood the room in a mass of limbs and snapping teeth, and he's on his feet in an instant. In a split second, he takes stock of many things, all at once. First, the entirety of his group is awake and arming themselves. Second, the barricade was a _really_ good idea because it's actually slowing down the frontline of zombies. And lastly, the most devastating realization is that there is no way they're going to survive this. 

It _has_ to be the massive zombie horde from outside, all flowing in waves of grotesque decay as far as the eye can see, spilling into the room from clogging the hallway. Jace's heart drops and he can feel the color draining from his face as watches, mystified and frozen in place. They must have somehow sensed their presence in the building and busted their way in, meaning Valentine must have shut the security down in case they stuck around. 

This is it. This time, it's really the end. 

They'll go down fighting, this much Jace knows for sure, and he prepares himself. Alec and Izzy step up on either side of him, all of them sharing a grim nod, and the first zombie breaches. 

It's filthy. In the grand scheme of things, it's much more than that. Everyone fights with everything they have, cutting down zombie after zombie, watching each other's backs. The corpses flow in, tumbling over each other to try and reach fresh flesh, and that actually helps. As many of the undead that they cut down, there's more that get tossed to the ground and trampled on by the waves of the horde. 

The entire room smells rancid with death, the scent so intense that Jace gags as much as he tries not to, his stomach revolting in reaction. Limbs go flying, landing to the ground with sickening splats, daggers and bats and guns and blades working to put a dent in the oncoming undead before they are swallowed whole, inevitably joining them or being ripped to pieces--the latter more likely. 

Jace expects his mind to go blank, but it doesn't. He finds himself thinking of his family, about how far they've come, about what they all have to lose. He thinks about Maryse and Luke, back at the Institute, waiting and hoping their children will return, but they never will. He thinks of Raphael, at Hotel Dumort, taking care of his survivors while he prays that his family returns to him. He thinks about them, about each of them who fight right now because they have things to fight _for._

And, for the first time, Jace understands what Simon means by doing more than surviving. He doesn't just want to make it out of this, he wants to _live._ He wants to go home, he wants to date Simon, he wants to have a funeral for Jonathan. He wants to learn to believe that the end of the world doesn't mean their lives can't continue on. 

He finds himself, inexplicably, losing himself to hopes and dreams in a way he never has before. As he fights, and fights _hard,_ he realizes that he wants to hug his family. And he understands why being scared to lose Simon isn't a bad thing, why it's a gift in all the ways he's never thought to ponder. It hits him, then, why this hopeless world breeds such hope, why people still have faith when no religion can make the world okay again, why people cling to love when it's so likely to be taken away. 

Jace does not want to die, and this, more than anything, is how he knows that he's going to.

It's with this thought that he makes the decision he does next. Behind him, Simon releases a shout of pure terror that can only mean one thing. Jace kicks back the zombie in front of him so hard that it goes flying into four others, making them all fall down in a tangle of rotting limbs. He whirls on the spot, heart in his throat, and he locates Simon almost immediately. He's pinned to the wall, three zombies converging on him at once, one dangerously close to taking a chunk out of his neck. 

They're all going to die. Jace knows that, knows there's no way out. Even still, he darts forward to rip the zombies away from Simon without even hesitating, knowing what will happen when he does. He doesn't want to die, but more than that, he doesn't want to stand by while Simon does. 

The first bite is in the bony part of his wrist, teeth imprints on the top and bottom, like a dog latching on and refusing to let go. Jace can't help the curse of pain that flies from his mouth, for this is a pain he's never experienced before. The bite feels like it's pure fire, eating away at his skin, the burn of it so intense that Jace instantly contemplates cutting his own limb off to escape it. He flings the zombie off, only to scream loudly at the feeling of the next bite, teeth burying into the meaty part of his arm above his elbow. He finds himself deliriously wishing he hadn't taken his leather jacket off to lay over Clary when she'd gotten cold. 

The third zombie lunges forward from where he'd ripped it away from Simon, clearly going right for his throat, but it never gets the chance. Face twisted in horror, Simon swings his bat and sends it sailing to the side, rushing forward to pry the other zombie from his arm and knock its head in. 

Jace tries to stand the torture of the bites, but it's the worst thing he's ever felt. It's like being branded with white-hot iron, the disease entering his bloodstream and being immediately killed off. It's pure torment, the feeling overtaking everything else. 

"Jace!" Simon cries out, darting forward to grab him, his chest heaving. 

The mere act of replying is impossible; Jace can't even speak. He grinds his teeth, locking his screams in his throat, and he just tries very hard not to cry. Simon clutches at him, his mouth moving rapidly as he tries to figure out what to do, but he can only stay in one spot very long. With the undead still approaching, Simon has no choice but to join back in the fight. He shoves Jace behind him, up against the wall, and he wields his bat without hesitance. 

The pain gradually passes, thankfully, the virus being eradicated from his body. The burn lessens to a dull ache, his mind clears, and he's left feeling feverish but stable. He pushes himself from the wall shakily and works to breathe, blinking hard and stepping up beside Simon to fight with him. 

Then, just as abruptly as everything began, it comes to a screeching halt. They haven't even taken a third of the zombies out, so by all means, it should not be over. But, for some reason, the zombies all stop attacking. As one, they come to a standstill, turning in a stumbling gait to face the door. 

Jace pants and stares around in surprise, his lips parting in awe. No zombie _ever_ stops trying to get to their source of nourishment, not for anything. This behavior is incomprehensible, the sight of it one of the strangest phenomenons he's ever witnessed. 

He can see the horde closer to the door shuffle to the side, parting like a wave of decomposed bodies, splitting right down the middle. Closer and closer, the undead shuffle to make a walkway, and Jace gapes as it finally breaks open at the end and they all see who or what approaches.

Jonathan smiles at them. "Hello." 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooft, we're so close to the end, folks. Well, this a soft ending, and the next is basically an epilogue. Sort of, you'll see. I'm so excited. 
> 
> For this one, it's a chapter moodboard that you can go check out on my tumblr:  
> jimonsprettyface
> 
> With that being said, enjoy ;)

Jonathan does not look like he used to, but he looks enough like himself that it gives them all pause. His veins are black, like a zombie's, but his skin is not gray--it's the same fair, lively color he had before. His eyes are bright blue, just as they always have been, but the small pupils are an opaque white. 

Jace...doesn't understand. 

"You're dead," he chokes out, his blade clattering to the floor as his hand spasms. "I--I saw you die!" 

Jonathan looks at him. "I did die, yes. Just--just for a little bit, long enough for the disease to do its thing. It just stopped my heart for, like, three beats." 

"Jonathan," Clary breathes out, taking a measured step forward. She comes to a hesitant halt, her throat working. "Y-you were bitten." 

"I was." Jonathan grimaces. "I, uh, turned and everything, I guess, but it didn't...work? I don't know what it is. My heart is still beating, but I--I look like this, and the zombies don't attack me anymore?" 

"Where have you _been?"_ Clary demands, apparently having heard enough as she surges forward and slams into her little brother, sniffling loudly as she wraps her arms around him. 

Jonathan lifts his arms and hugs her back, pressing his face to her hair for a moment with a relieved sigh. When they break apart, he says, "I woke up after...well, after dying. There had been an explosion? Jace was knocked out, so I ran to the door and opened it to see what happened. Stupid, I know, but I wasn't thinking. I just kinda assumed _all_ the zombies were dead. But I got out into the hallway, and they were not, so I tried to go back into the room, but the security had shut it down, so I just fucking _ran._ The zombies followed me, and I thought they were going to kill me, so I went into the stairwell. Got to the first floor and found a room to lock myself in." 

"And you've been there the whole time?" Izzy asks, sounding astonished. 

Jonathan scowls. "The zombies eventually left, so I tried to get back out, but the door wouldn't open. It felt like forever before it finally did, and when I heard a gunshot, I went to try and bust the door down, except it just...opened? And that's when I learned the zombies hadn't left at all. They were just waiting in the hall, standing between me and the elevator _or_ the stairs, so I was screwed." 

Alec's face scrunches in confusion. "They weren't trying to get through the room to you?" 

"No, but it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure that out. By the time I realized that the zombies weren't, like, clamoring at my door, I'd already slept and had a snack." Jonathan rolls his eyes at himself. "I think I needed it after the bite and everything. Anyway, I figured I'd risk it, so I went out in the hall and waited. The zombies didn't attack or anything, just stared at me. I'll admit, I was scared shitless to get near them, but they just let me walk into the cluster and touch them and basically do whatever I wanted. It was insane." 

"Holy shit," Simon mutters. "Zombie King." 

"What? No." Jonathan snorts, then makes a considering expression as he looks around at the zombies that are all just...staring at him. "Well, sort of, I guess. I was in the middle of them when the _other_ zombies breached the building. I tried to get up here as quickly as possible, but they clogged the stairs and it was a real pain in my ass. But the zombies that were in the hall followed me, kind of like puppies, actually." 

"Holy _shit,"_ Simon repeats. "Zombie Army!" 

Jonathan swallows thickly and frowns, his eyes downcast. "I don't know what happened to me, or--or why I'm alive and like _this._ But I--I _swear_ to you all that I'm alive, and I don't want to eat anyone." 

"His blood," Magnus muses, looking over at Alec with his eyebrows raised. "It would make sense for his blood to react to the disease that way and coexist, especially if properties of his blood are already _in_ the disease. He'd be the only host to take on the disease and live through it." 

Jonathan's head snaps up and he stares at Magnus blankly. "What?" he asks flatly. 

"We'll explain," Jace assures him, feeling a knot he hadn't even been aware of unraveling in his chest. "You're okay, and that's all that matters." 

With that and a wave of relief, Jace picks his way past zombies carelessly to bypass Clary and hug Jonathan tight, his eyes sinking closed. He doesn't even register the temperature of Jonathan's body until a beat later--it's cold, almost uncomfortably so, but not too terrible. Jace tucks his face into Jonathan's throat and inhales, just so fucking _grateful_ that his friend is alive, and he jerks back in surprise a moment later. 

"What?" Jonathan asks warily. 

"You smell…" Jace blinks. "Jonathan, you kind of smell like...decay, dude. Not--not too much, just a little, so light it's almost _sweet."_

Clary coughs. "I wasn't going to mention it." 

"Oh, that's not all. Look at this." Jonathan takes a step back and holds out his arm, pinching what looks like viable, alive skin between his fingers and tugging on it. The skin slides off like a wet bandage, dangling from his fingers. "Weird, right?" 

"Oh, _gross,"_ Maia blurts out. 

_"Cool,"_ Simon whispers in awe. 

Jonathan chuckles. "But watch." 

They do, and they're all fucking shaken by the sight of the muscle and pink under his flesh forming another layer of skin like light would break through and blot out a shadow. As the skin on his arm reforms rapidly, the skin between his fingers shrivel like skin underneath water and turns rotted. Jonathan drops it to the floor and stares at them. 

"Woah," Simon mutters. 

"I have no idea what happened to me," Jonathan admits, looking unsure but hopeful. "I mean, I've always been a freak, but this is just...a lot." 

"The increased speed of his regenerative cells is _insane,"_ Izzy says, her interest piqued, genuinely sounding excited. "It's like he's alive and dead all at once!" 

Jonathan suddenly surges forward and clasps Jace's arm, staring down at the bite around his wrist in blatant horror. "Oh fuck, you were--Jace, you're bit!" 

And suddenly, Jace is laughing. It's a bright burst of laughter that is delirious with relief. Surrounded by motionless zombies, a friend who appears to be half-zombie, and the rest of his family, Jace just cracks up and fucking _loses it._ Laughing so hard that he bends in half and has to clutch his stomach. 

"Oh, Jonathan," Clary says through laughter of her own, and in fact, everyone is chuckling now, "you have missed _a lot."_

* * *

Jonathan is caught up about an hour later, and he's stunned by what he's learned, but he takes it in stride. He's always been practical, just like Alec had said. He asks a lot of questions and ends up having to sit down, staring unseeingly out at the surrounding zombies as he tries to process everything. 

But, eventually, as everyone else did, he bounces back. He takes the time to reunite with everyone, and he seems relieved that no one is hesitant to touch him or treat him normally. In a way, it's heartbreaking to see him feel so out of place, the same way he was when he was younger and an outcast. But Jace doubts anyone else could have settled into what he is now as well as he is, having always felt like he didn't belong or properly _fit_ into the normalcy of humanity anyway. 

The zombies, however, are disconcerting. 

"So, do they just...hover around you like that?" Jace asks warily, watching the zombies uneasily. 

Jonathan nods. "Pretty much. And they kind of just follow me around." 

"Do you think they'd bite me still?" Simon asks, standing in front of a zombie who used to be a young woman. He lifts one hand and pokes its nose, his eyebrows raising when it doesn't react. "Huh, guess not. What, are they just _tame_ now?" 

"What happens when they start starving?" Maia asks cautiously, nudging a zombie in its shoulder, jerking back when it takes a step back, but that's the only movement it gives. 

"They're always starving," Jace says. "That's their natural state. But they don't _actually_ need the flesh to survive. That's why they can go years without eating anyone and still be...you know, alive but not." 

"Yeah, that." Jonathan looks over his shoulder at the zombies surrounding him. "Maybe they are tame. Maybe I can tame them all." 

"Well," Alec says decisively, "that's a theory to explore later. For now, it's getting dark and we need to start heading home." 

"Those are _not_ coming with us," Magnus says seriously, waving a flippant hand towards the zombies. 

"Can you make them stay here?" Clary asks. 

Jonathan shrugs. "I haven't, uh, actually tried to make them do anything." Everyone stares at him expectantly, and he mutters, "What, _now?"_

"Yeah, just try it," Simon says eagerly, obviously thrilled by this newfound ability of Jonathan's. 

"Alright," Jonathan murmurs uncertainly. He stands up and walks up to a zombie right behind him, pointing to a spot to the left. "Go over there." 

After a beat, the zombie shuffles to where Jonathan points, then resumes staring at him. 

"Zombie King!" Simon declares gleefully. 

Jonathan sighs. "I'm not--" 

"You kind of are, though," Simon continues excitedly, his eyes bright. "Dude, you have a _whole_ army of zombies that will do your bidding and won't attack unless you tell them to. Do you even know how awesome that is? You're the fuckng _Zombie King!"_

"It is pretty amazing," Izzy agrees. 

Gaining steam, Simon blurts out, "You could make them all walk into a live volcano, or make them all throw themselves into vat of acid, or make them all leave New York! You could--Jonathan, you could make sure no one gets bit ever _again!"_

"Maybe _you're_ the cure," Jace muses, his lips ticking up at the mere thought. 

Jonathan blinks at him rapidly. "You think?" 

"A better one than me, anyway," Jace tells him in amusement. "I can only make the disease go away if I give my blood quick enough. You can control the disease to make sure it doesn't spread. Now that I think about it, you might _actually_ be the cure, and maybe Jocelyn had it all wrong." 

"You're sure all the zombies listen to you?" Alec asks carefully, eyes on Jonathan. 

"The ones I've encountered so far, yes. And all zombies are the same. Well, except for the ones in the woods," Jonathan admits. His eyebrows wrinkle and he shrugs. "Maybe not them." 

"Only one way to find out," Alec murmurs, shouldering his bag and standing tall. "It's time to go home." 

* * *

When the institute comes into view, Jace can feel his entire body sag with relief. It has been a long journey to get home, despite the fact that there were absolutely no snags along the way. 

In case the advanced zombies weren't susceptible to Jonathan's charms, he brought along a good chunk of the horde for security. That had been incredibly nerve-wracking for as long as it took for them to actually _reach_ the woods, the possibility that the zombies could change their tune and attack at any moment hanging over them like an axe. But they never did, and they came in handy when the group actually made it into the woods. The advanced zombies apparently weren't under Jonathan's thumb, so that had been a fight--a very quick one. 

The advanced zombies had been no match for Jonathan's horde and the group and had all been handled very quickly. Jace remembers the surreality of the moment, of finding himself fighting alongside a zombie that had no intention to actually harm him. After, Jonathan had left the remainder of the horde in the woods so they could travel home alone. 

Of course, more zombies along the way attempted to attack them, only to immediately stop when Jonathan stepped forward. The swift change from threat to docile is still, even now, hard for Jace to wrap his mind around, but it's incredibly reassuring. Over and over, Jonathan would tame the zombies and then leave them behind, almost seeming a little guilty about doing so after a while. 

Now, as they all approach the Institute with the sun rising over the horizon, Jace feels as if he's an entirely different person. He's sure as hell not the same person who left it, that much is for sure. In only the span of a few days, he's gone through so much and had so many revelations that it almost seems too wild to process. He desperately wants to crawl into his bed to sleep and deal with it tomorrow. 

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see this place," Sebastian says with a tired grin, his hand holding Clary's, their fingers threaded together. 

"Mom is going to be so _happy_ ," Izzy announces with a broad grin, picking up her pace. 

Jonathan makes a small sound that's somewhere between distress and amusement. "Luke is going to be so surprised when he finds out that his son is basically a Zombie God." 

"Zombie King sounds better," Simon mumbles. "It does. Right, Jace?" 

"Yeah, definitely," Jace replies loyally, indulging him just to see the smile light up his face. 

They all skip up the steps and enter through the front entrance, the doors banging behind them loudly. They barely make it up the hall before Maryse and Luke come barreling around the corner with their faces twisted into hope. As soon as they see them, they both come to a halt, and Luke sags with relief while Maryse lets out a choked sound and reaches a shaking hand to cover her mouth. 

"Oh, thank god," Luke breathes out, face splitting into a grin as he breaks away from Maryse to rush forward and wrap whomever he can reach first into a hug--it just so happens to be Magnus. 

"Oh, don't cry, Mom," Alec says softly, taking a step forward. "Don't do that, we're all fine." 

Maryse comes bursting forward, nearly knocking Alec over as she clings to him with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Their relief is palpable, and the reunion is sweet. Everyone gets hugs, no exceptions. It takes a while because there are nine of them, and seeing as Maryse and Luke both have to hug _all_ of them for a good amount of time--Sebastian and Maia included--it feels like forever. It's nice, though, and Jace feels...settled after getting his hug from Luke and then Maryse, both of which who hug him so tight that it almost hurts, but in the best way. Afterwards, the questions start pouring out. 

It's inevitable. There's a lot to address, to cover, to recount and explain. Maryse and Luke both have to come clean about knowing Valentine is--was--Clary and Jonathan's father, and that's not a very comfortable moment. It's forgivable, however, because both Clary and Jonathan can understand _why_ they'd want to keep them from that horrible knowledge, even if they're better off knowing. They tell the rest, explaining about how Valentine had still been alive, about how he died--here, Clary looks a little ashamed under Luke's gaze, but not like she regrets it, and Luke just hugs her again. 

Getting into the cure, into Jace's immunity, and what happened with Jonathan is...well, it's _a lot._ It takes Maryse and Luke some adjustment and plenty of questions, but they do manage to get it eventually. That's a positive to this shitty world, Jace supposes. It forces people to adapt, and thankfully, Luke and Maryse do that well enough. There are certain things, though, that manage to stun them--the fact that their kids were used by Valentine to take blood samples, that Jonathan can control zombies now, that Magnus and Alec finally are together, _finally._

But they adapt and adjust, and that's that. 

Jace is genuinely happy that they're all reuniting, that Maryse and Luke are caught up, he _really_ is, but fucking hell...he desperately wants a nap. 

He isn't the only one. 

"Mom," Alec says, cutting her off right in the middle of her sentence, "we're alive, and we're fine, and everything is okay for now. But we've all kind of had a _really_ long journey, and we're dead on our feet." 

Maryse blinks rapidly and looks between them, her hands clasped together. "Right, right. God, I'm sorry. It's just--we're so happy you're home. Of course, go get some rest. Luke and I will bother you tomorrow." 

"Looking forward to it," Izzy says with a smile. 

"Alright, last orders before we take a week vacation, at the least," Alec mutters, turning around to address the group. "Food, then sleep." 

"You heard the fearless leader," Simon says pleasantly, jabbing his finger in the air. "To the kitchen!" 

As they all head in the direction of food, Jace catches Maryse talking to Luke, saying, "I'm so proud of them, Luke. So proud." 

"Me too," Luke agrees softly. 

Jace ducks his head and smiles as he follows his family. It's the first time they've eaten anything close to a bulky meal in days, and no one really speaks, too busy stuffing their faces. They all gather around the kitchen, nodding at the few people already lingering in there who seem happy to see them--Underhill, his boyfriend Scott, who grows pot out back, and Jia, Aline's mother. It's a quiet affair, but a peaceful one. 

"Sleep?" Clary asks tiredly as they all leave the kitchen, her eyes blinking slow from fatigue.

Izzy hums. "I'm so tired, but I don't think I can actually fall asleep." 

Maia snorts. "I could knock you out." 

"You could, and I'd thank you for it." Izzy smiles at her sharply, then winks. "Personally, I have better ideas as to how you could put me to sleep." 

"Oh?" Maia says, eyes bright with amusement as she arches an eyebrow. 

"Maybe we should all go hang out on the roof until we get tired," Simon suggests, looking around at everyone hopefully. "No one will bother us up there, and it's--well, it's kind of our spot, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, Simon," Clary agrees supportively, "that sounds like a perfect idea." 

And so, to the roof they go. They break off to go get blankets and pillows to be comfortable, and Jace enjoys the easy silence he and Alec share as they walk to their room. They each go to their mattress' to strip them, then turn and smile at each other over their full arms. 

"You're going to move into Magnus' room, aren't you?" Jace asks teasingly. 

Alec swallows. "If--if he'll have me." 

"He will, trust me." 

"Is that--are you okay with that?" 

Jace snorts. "Dude, I've been trying to get you to sleep with Magnus for _years._ In the biblical and literal sense, both. By all means, get _out."_

"Oh, shut up," Alec says, but he's smiling. He raises his eyebrows. "And you? Are you going to let Simon move in here?" 

"If he wants," Jace replies simply. 

"Oh, he wants. Don't know why. You're a terrible roommate, always fussing about things being clean." 

"You're _messy."_

Alec smirks. "If you think _I'm_ messy, then Simon will be dead by the end of the week." 

Jace shoots him the bird and rolls his eyes, heading to the door while Alec follows with a chuckle. They walk together towards the entrance to the roof, and when they get there, Clary and Simon are chattering as they climb up. Simon's scuffed converse disappear through the hatch, and Jace immediately follows him up, unsurprised to find the others already there. 

There's quiet banter as they all arrange their blankets and pillows to make a large enough pallet for all nine of them to sprawl out on. Clary and Sebastian flirt shamelessly, almost cutely, while Maia and Izzy seem to tease them relentlessly. Clary doesn't blush, but surprisingly, Sebastian does. Magnus and Simon get locked into a deep discussion, their words rapid and soft as they maneuver pillows and talk. Alec and Jonathan silently work with Jace, enjoying the comfortable silence and the surrounding peace. 

There's not a question of who will lay by who. Maia takes the far left of the blanket, Izzy sprawls down beside her almost immediately, Sebastian sinks down next to Izzy with Clary on his other side. Jonathan takes the middle, with Alec laying down on his right, and Magnus languidly draping himself along Alec's side. Jace presses in next to Magnus, and Simon curls into Jace, his head on his shoulder. They're all touching by proxy, laying back to look up at the soft orange and pink hues as the sun lights the sky. 

They don't talk, just relish in the moment, basking in the proximity of each other. It's a battle won, they all seem to realize, and the aftermath leaves them grateful for every breath they take. Jace buries his nose into Simon's hair and closes his eyes, relaxing as he breathes evenly. They all drift off here, because of course they do. 

Everything about this moment, about being here together, is perfectly easy, and it feels like, from here on out, it always will be. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so here we are. The final chapter. It's a little mind-boggling to me because I worked INSANELY hard on this fic--from the 80k I wrote, to the 23 moodboards I made--and it almost feels weird to have this part be over. I won't babble too much in the top notes, but do look into the bottom notes for some important info! 
> 
> This chapter is a jimon moodboard again (as you can see, which I will explain WHY you can see it here in the bottom notes), but you can go check it out on my tumblr and give it some love. My tumblr is: jimonsprettyface
> 
> With that being said...enjoy ;)

"Got your blood samples?" 

Everyone nods, save for Jace, who doesn't actually  _ need  _ a blood sample, seeing as it's his blood that everyone who deems to leave the Institute carts around with them. Not that they  _ technically  _ need it since Jonathan is with them, but it is a precaution. 

Alec adjusts his bow and sweeps his gaze around at everyone. "Alright, let's head out." 

Sebastian and Izzy are both practically bouncing in place, equally excited about the trip. They both have people they're excited to see at their destination, and though they all make this trip nearly three times a week, they're always eager to go. It's not like it's that far, now, not with them driving these days. 

It's only been a few months since they made it back home from the lab, but a lot of things have changed. It's the same world it was before, but the rules have been erased and rewritten. 

People go out these days, only as far as they're allowed. There's marked off places that people are allowed to go, all the places that Jonathan has passed through and tamed the zombies. Most people are still freaked out about the undead, so Jonathan usually sends them away, but there's so many that the option to clutter them all together somewhere isn't exactly efficient. But people will pack-bond with nearly anything, even things without emotion or humanity, even fucking  _ zombies,  _ apparently. 

Slowly but surely, people are coming around to corpses just lingering around the streets. They've learned that the zombies can be arranged or moved with guidance, so they're often just pushed aside or made to sit down. The kids love the zombies, especially Madzie, who has apparently made friends with one of the ones Jonathan has watching the perimeter of the Institute--she named it Cookie and talks to it a lot. It should be weird that the zombie versions of people are being treated like pets, almost, but it's really not. They're blank slates with no higher function, and Jace thinks it's better for people to treat them like that rather than be scared. 

A good amount of people have left the Institute to move into houses, taking to driving cars again, turning the surrounding areas into a community. People make their own gardens, take over old bars, help rebuild where they can. Since Jonathan had a large zombie horde clear a lot of streets of cars, people actually spread out.

Jace has given his blood so many times at this point that he's beginning to wonder if he'll ever run out. Caterina assures him that he won't every time he asks as she takes more. As long as they do it right, keep him taken care of, and spread out the blood donations, he's perfectly fine. Nearly everyone he knows has a blood sample of his that they can use in case of emergency, in case they get bit. 

Of course, that's not to say everything goes smoothly all the time. Sometimes, zombies Jonathan hasn't gotten to yet wander in and attack, and people don't always inject themselves in time. However, death isn't as frequent as before, and most people want to have a life rather than just surviving, so they believe the reward outweighs the risk. 

Jace is inclined to agree, these days. 

Simon drives his van--the old thing they'd gone to his house to get had cranked right back up rather loyally--and Jace sits in the passenger seat. The others are all piled into the back, quiet and still. When Jace looks back at them, his lips curl up. 

Magnus and Alec have their heads bent close together, whispering so low that Jace can't hear them, probably saying some sappy shit that makes Jace's teeth ache from how sweet they are--it's sickening, really, how fucking  _ happy  _ they are, but everyone adores it. On the other hand, you have Clary and Sebastian. They can't keep their hands off each other and often opt not to, just like now, curled up together and making out like a couple of rowdy teenagers--overall, it's cute, but it garners a lot of teasing from the others. The only two not being couple-y in the back is Jonathan and Izzy, and they're just playing tic-tac-toe. 

The ride from the Institute to Hotel Dumort isn't a long one, not compared to the walking distance they've actually had to do. Simon knows the route like the back of his hand at this point, and he hums as he drives it, looking over to beam at Jace every now and again, just because. 

When they pull up to the deserted parking lot, Sebastian and Izzy are the first to clamor out of the truck, making a beeline for the door. The others follow at a calmer pace, but not by much--they all are looking forward to the visit. 

Raphael and Maia meet them at the door. Izzy immediately bursts forward to launch herself at Maia and laugh brightly as they hug. Raphael doesn't  _ do  _ outward bursts of affection, but he does manage a small smile for Sebastian and allows him to pat his suit-clad shoulder. 

Jace remembers when they'd all come here after the lab. Raphael had broken his composure for just a split second, long enough to look relieved and quickly hug Maia and Sebastian, both acts he made up for by insulting them. He'd been unfazed to learn that Sebastian would be staying with Clary, but he'd been pleased to know Maia was coming home. 

Izzy...less so. They'd really bonded throughout everything, and she'd been really upset that Maia wouldn't stay, but Maia had been insistent that she belonged at Hotel Dumort, helping Raphael look after their survivors. It hadn't been an argument, and Izzy had gotten over it quickly enough when she realized that they'd be visiting so often. Sometimes, Maia comes to spend a week at the Institute, but she often doesn't have to because those at the Institute usually come to Hotel Dumort every few days. 

Jace often thinks that Maia and Izzy are fucking, but they will neither confirm nor deny this, and they both seem to enjoy everyone's suspicion. He can't pin anything down as proof, but he continues to look. 

"Well, don't just stand in my doorway all day," Raphael mutters. "Get in here." 

"How've ya been, mate?" Sebastian asks cheerfully, smiling brightly at Raphael. 

"The same as I've been since the last time you asked me," Raphael replies flatly. 

Sebastian snorts. "Bored?" 

"Always," Raphael tells him with a sigh. 

Jace can't help the way his lips twitch at Raphael's bland tone. Only Raphael could be bored during the zombie apocalypse, especially an ever-changing one. But, for all his aloofness, Jace won't ever forget the utter humanity to him in that moment when he laid eyes on Sebastian and Maia after the lab, his shell of cold and careless nonchalance cracking for even just a moment, and Jace often thinks of it as one of his favorite Raphael moments--another one being that he apparently sleepwalks, and he'd ended up crawling right into bed with Simon and Jace the one and only time he'd stayed at the Institute, and he very much didn't appreciate that they just  _ let  _ him and slept with him until morning. 

"We should be bringing in the next shipments when we come by next time," Magnus tells him with a faint hint of amusement in his tone. 

"I'd rather you didn't," Raphael admits, slipping into leader mode immediately, looking strangely like Alec as he does. "We almost don't have room to put everything, and we still have a good portion from the  _ last  _ shipment of supplies. Trust me, we're not starving any longer." 

The unsaid  _ thank you  _ hangs heavy in the air, and Alec nods cordially. "Well, keep us updated, then. Let us know when you'll be needing another shipment. It might be best for you to wait; we're finally going to raid the main library and see what we can get from there. If you want, we can stop by with the haul and let you pick some things out." 

"Raphael, that would be amazing," Maia says with a bright laugh. "Trust me, I've been to the library and there are some  _ really  _ good finds." 

Izzy reaches out to squeeze Maia's hand, her gaze warm. "One bean-bag chair for me, and one for you." 

"Yes, alright, sounds good." Raphael shares a nod with Alec. "For now, will you all be joining us? Just a quick visit, or will you be staying the night again?" 

"Staying the night," Magnus tells him. 

Raphael hums. "Good, good. That means you can join us all for dinner. Sebastian, you should make your rounds; everyone misses you around here, though I can't imagine  _ why.  _ The rest of you can go get settled in your rooms." 

"Actually, we can't," Jace speaks up, throwing Alec a significant glance as he reaches out to grab Simon's arm. "We have something we need to go take care of, but we'll be back in time for dinner." 

Simon frowns at him. "But--" 

"We'll be back," Jace assures him firmly. 

"Okay," Simon says, drawing the word out as he watches Jace in confusion. 

With a few goodbyes--Simon's confused and Jace's rushed--they head back to the van. Jace rarely, if ever, drives the van, mostly because he's not actually the best driver, but he hops up behind the wheel this time, which makes Simon shoot him a cautious look. Driving is a lot easier when there are usually no other cars on the road, or that many rules to follow. 

Jace already has the route to their destination mapped out, so he carefully pulls them out of the parking lot and gets them going. Simon is staring at him really hard, and he mutters, "What, Simon?" 

"Since when do me and you have an extra mission while everyone else gets to relax?" Simon asks with narrowed eyes. "Did you volunteer us for something? Or is this a sex thing? Which is  _ fine,  _ by the way, but like...we could have has sex at the hotel. And I--" 

"Simon," Jace interrupts quickly, knowing an oncoming Simon Lewis rapid-fire rant when he sees one, "just sit back and enjoy the ride." 

"Yeah, because I can do that while  _ you're  _ driving." 

"Take a nap." 

"You continue to find nicer ways to tell me to shut up every day." Simon snorts and squirms back into his seat with a sigh. "Personally, my favorite is when you stick your--" 

"Shut  _ up,  _ Simon," Jace mutters, heaving a sigh. 

Simon rolls his eyes, but stops talking. He puts his chin in his hand and stares out the window with a small frown, watching the scenery as they drive. It's not exactly pretty outside, not with tamed zombies scattered everywhere and blood in the streets, but the shining sun drapes beams of itself over Simon's face, reflecting in his brown eyes and dancing along his features...and that's pretty in its own right. 

"Watch the road!" Simon blurts out. 

Jace inhales sharply and jerks the wheel, narrowly avoiding the sidewalk he'd nearly just drove up on. He throws Simon an innocent smile. "Meant to do that," he lies. 

Simon huffs. "You have to pay attention when you're driving.  _ You,  _ especially." 

"It's your fault," Jace says sweetly. "I was distracted by you. Can't help it." 

"Uh huh," Simon says flatly, but his lips curl up in a pleased smile. He clears his throat. "Just--just pay attention and don't kill us." 

Jace rolls his eyes. "Yes, dear." 

It's not too long after that when they pull into their destination. Jace throws the van in park and turns to watch Simon's reaction--it's a very nice one. Simon's lips are parted as he looks up at the building, and he whirls around to gape at Jace. 

"Roller-skating rink?" Simon asks breathlessly. 

"Mhm," Jace confirms. 

Simon's eyes shine with delight. "We're going on a date?" he asks. 

Jace nods. "Mhm," he hums again. 

For a long moment, Simon just stares at him. His gaze flicks over Jace's face, slow and careful, like he's trying to memorize every feature. His tongue slides out to wet his bottom lip, and there's some kind of emotion in his eyes that Jace almost can't identify.  _ Almost.  _ When he realizes what it is, his entire chest explodes with warmth and he doesn't stop himself from smiling bright and wide. 

"I love you," Simon says softly, the words leaving him on an exhale, existing in the air between them for the very first time, and he looks like he's never been more sure of anything in his entire life. 

Jace smiles at him. "I know." 

With that, he removes his seatbelt and eases his way out of the van, heading toward the building. A beat later, Simon joins him, nearly bouncing in place in his blatant excitement. 

There's no zombies here, Jace had made sure of that. He'd taken Jonathan out here to clear them out and got him to help set everything up. There's already two pairs of roller-skates sitting on the counter for them, already picked out in their size. Next to that is a boombox they'd picked up a while back, one that plays CDs, but they'd never been able to use it before for fear of alerting zombies. It already has one of Simon's CDs that he'd burned his own recorded songs into, which Jace figures is a very nice touch, indeed. Sunlight streams into the room from the windows surrounding the room, lighting up the whole rink, suggesting a cheery atmosphere. 

"Oh my god," Simon whispers as Jace holds out his pair of skates, "you did all of this?" 

"I told you I'd work something out," Jace murmurs, then leans in with a smirk. "And, for the record, I love you, too." 

Simon grins broadly and takes his skates, darting forward to press a quick but firm kiss to Jace's lips, then he steps back to go and put on his skates. Jace hears his own sigh, hears how soft and happy it is, and he just shakes his head with a small smile. 

The date goes very well. Simon is exceptionally happy, and Jace finds himself in much the same state. They've been together for almost four months now, and everything is somehow new and fresh while being familiar and settled all at once. Everyday feels like the first day of their relationship and also like they've been doing it for years, and for some reason, that comforts Jace. 

Skating, as it turns out, isn't that much different than ice-skating, which Jace just so happens to be shit at. So, it comes as no surprise that he falls flat on his back more times than he'd ever admit to, but Simon is as uncoordinated as they come, so he's usually falling down right along with him. For as long as it's funny, they allow it to happen and get right back up to try again, holding on to each other for balance, equally unequipped to excel at this. They do eventually find the motion of it, though, and they manage to circle the entire rink without falling, hands pinwheeling as they banter back and forth, teasing each other while reaching out to make sure the other doesn't fall--or, if they do, they won't go down alone. 

Simon's CD plays all the way through--with Simon singing along more often than not--and the room suddenly descends into silence. The abrupt quiet is slightly jarring, and Simon attempts to whirl around and head back to the battery-operated toolbox, except he doesn't get very far. As his skate slips under him, he lets out a yelp and reaches out to grip Jace's shirt, sending them both sprawling to the floor with synchronous groans. 

"Oh, shit, sorry," Simon mutters as he rolls off of Jace to flop down beside him, their shoulders pressing together as they stare up at the ceiling. 

Jace grunts. "It's fine. If we can just stay down here for a few minutes, that would be great." 

"Yeah, we can--we should do that," Simon agrees with a small chuckle, reaching out with one hand to thread their fingers closest to each other together. 

Humming his agreement, Jace squeezes Simon's hand and closes his eyes as his breathing calms down. The tiny ache in his back from the fall eases out so quickly that he forgets it, and he spends a good few minutes in this relaxing bubble, just feeling the clunky weight of the skates on his feet. 

There's a thump and a scrape, and before Jace has his eyes open fully, Simon curls into Jace's side and throws one leg over both of his, the sturdiness of his skate weighing his leg down. Simon smiles at him innocently from where he puts his chin on his chest and slides his hand over the space between Jace's hips. Cool skin glides along the warmth of Jace's own, right below the edge of his shirt. 

"We are  _ not  _ having sex on the floor of a roller-skating rink, Simon. We don't have any extra pairs of clothes, no lube, and we're wearing  _ skates."  _

"Ah, come on, Jace, where's your  _ imagination?"  _

Jace tries to catch Simon's wrist as his hand starts fiddling with the button of his pants, but Simon tsks and avoids it. "Simon, I swear to--" 

The rest of Jace's words get cut off when a hand presses into his now unbuttoned pants, cold fingers dipping into his underwear and wrapping around his already hardening length. Jace hisses sharply between his teeth and immediately forgets whatever protests he's been trying to give. 

"Don't worry," Simon assures him playfully as he pushes himself up to hover over Jace. There's nothing playful in his gaze, however. His pupils are blown wide and his eyes are dark with lust, nearly black now. "There won't be a mess." 

A few moments later, Simon has his mouth wrapped around Jace's cock, the slick heat of it making Jace moan carelessly. It's transcendent, the feel of Simon sucking him off, his tongue giving soft kitten-licks to drive him insane, his teeth ever so gently scraping along his length to make him jolt from the sensitivity, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks earnestly to push him closer to the edge. It's actually embarrassing what sounds he makes, the choked off keens, the pleas and whimpers, the desperate and mindless moans of encouragement. 

He pushes his fingers into Simon's hair and tugs at the strands, biting his bottom lip at the motion of Simon bobbing up and down, using his hand to stroke the parts he can't fit. Jace can feel it when he's getting too close--his hips start jerking uncontrollably and his hands grow more insistent on Simon's head. He picks his head up and forces his eyes open to watch Simon suck his cock, mesmerized by the sight of his own length fucking Simon's mouth as his hips jolt forward over and over. The image of it is enough to send him to orgasm, and Jace whimpers as he spills into Simon's mouth, all of which gets swallowed down and licked clean. 

"Oh, fuck," Jace pants out, his chest heaving, his legs shaking, tremors running through his whole body. His head drops back and he blinks dazedly up at the ceiling as Simon fixes his pants and crawls up the length of his body to beam down at him. 

Simon licks his lips. "See? No mess." 

"You've always been the solution to all my problems," Jace says with a delirious huff of laughter. 

"Funny you should say that." Simon chuckles huskily and rolls his hard cock still trapped in his pants against Jace's hip. "How about you help me with  _ my  _ problem?" 

Jace snorts and shoves at Simon, urging him to sprawl out flat, complying with Simon's wishes. In mere moments, they've swapped places, and Jace is breathing through his nose, eyes stinging, doing his fucking  _ best  _ to suck Simon to completion. He's good at it and has always enjoyed it, mostly because it makes his mind go blank. It's a task he can put all his focus into, letting everything else disappear, and Simon always makes the prettiest sounds. 

It doesn't take Simon long to find release, probably because he was so close to begin with, so fucking turned on by giving Jace a blow job. When he's close to finishing, Jace holds still and lets Simon fist his hair while he controls the speed and motion. Simon fucks his mouth in swift, shallow trusts. Moments later, he's hissing out Jace's name, then moaning low and rough as he spills salty and heady on Jace's tongue. Jace wrinkles his nose as he swallows, never having been a fan of the taste himself, but he relishes in the wheezes Simon gives as he slumps back. 

They're quiet for a long time after that. 

* * *

"He never really skimps on anything, does he?" Jace muses in amusement as he and Maia stand shoulder-to-shoulder in the doorway. 

Maia snorts and waves her hands. "God, no. He loves the drama of it all." 

"I think it's nice," Clary comments. 

Alec grunts. "It's a bit  _ much,  _ isn't it?" 

"Darling, this is just enough," Magnus says in delight, his smile wide as he stares around the room. 

Hotel Dumort used to have a ballroom because, apparently, it was old-fashioned and upscale like that. Raphael has turned it into a cafeteria of sorts, but it looks like a fine-dining establishment. Circular tables are peppered all around the room with white tablecloths draped over them, a candle burning in the middle of every single one. Each table has five chairs sat around it, and each chair has a high back that's black with intricate golden patterns. Of course, all of this came from the hotel itself, but Raphael has made very good use of it. 

The only eyesore in the room--and it's barely even that--is the head table that's laden with food. Raphael has apparently turned dinner into a feast. 

"He does this at least once a week," Maia says conversationally. "Really boosts morale." 

"How pissed do you think he'd be if we pushed two tables together and all sat at them?" Izzy muses. 

"Very," Sebastian tells her. 

Jace smirks. "Perfect, let's do that." 

Giggling like a bunch of kids who know they'll get in trouble--and are angling to--they all go to the side of the room, out of the way, and push two tables together. The sides that meet are like two opposite parentheses that meet back-to-back, and they all arrange the chairs properly. 

_ "What  _ are you doing?" Raphael snaps as soon as he catches them, but by now, it's too late. 

Simon beams at him. "We saved you a seat," he says cheerfully, gesturing to the open chair between him and Sebastian. 

Raphael sighs, but he sits. 

Dinner is really fucking good for it to have been made with kitchen equipment lacking electricity, but there's apparently a lot you can do with a gas stove. It's a good meal, and the room is full of conversation, survivors scattered around in groups. Jace has met a few from Hotel Dumort. Meliorn, an enigmatic man who's as quirky and serene as he is pretty. A little girl who believes she's the queen of fairies, and that Meliorn is her main bodyguard--a role he always stays in character for--and she's as cold and callous as she is adorable. Helen, a compassionate woman with no qualms about stating the obvious, who also happens to be dating Aline--a recent thing that Jace thinks is a perfect match. 

As Jace looks around, an idea strikes him, but he tucks it away to enjoy his time with his family. 

After dinner, Jace is more than stuffed and ready to crawl into bed. They all have a permanent room here at Hotel Dumort, an idea Raphael had come up with but will deny it to his dying day. Jace shares with Simon, Alec shares with Magnus, Clary shares with Sebastian, and Izzy shares with Jonathan, though she often sneaks out to go sleep with Maia--if they do more than that is still a mystery. Raphael has his own room just a few doors down from Jace and Simon, but he keeps it locked in case he sleepwalks, not wanting a repeat of the time he'd ended up cuddled between them all night. To this day, Jace and Simon make sure to tease him about that. 

"How'd the date go?" Magnus asks as he climbs the stairs beside Alec and Jace, Simon trailing after them between Raphael and Izzy. 

Jace keeps his face clear of emotion, even though he wishes to smirk. "It went great." 

"That's good," Jonathan comments from in front of him as he climbs the stairs, turning away from his conversation with Clary and Maia, while Sebastian--the suave guy that he is--climbs the stairs backwards and grins down at everyone. "We worked pretty hard on setting that up." 

Simon stumbles forward to shove his face over Alec's shoulder and give Jonathan a thumbs up. "It was awesome, thank you." 

Jonathan shrugs. "Jace did most of the work. I just dealt with the zombies." 

"We should go on a double date," Clary tells Simon with bright eyes. "No, a  _ triple  _ date! Magnus, you and Alec should come, too." 

At once, in perfect unison, Jace and Alec say, "Absolutely not." 

Clary sticks her tongue out at them. 

Once they all climb the stairs, they split off with smiles and well-wishes to sleep good. In the morning, they'll all spend more time together before the eight guests get ready to go home and prepare to raid the library. After that is uncharted territory. They'll probably keep broadening the areas people have access to with tamed zombies, which is slow work but leaves a good impact. 

But, the thing is, Jace has an idea. 

He toys with it in his head, and he's distracted as he shuts the door to his and Simon's guest room, frowning slightly as he shrugs out of his jacket. Simon is humming, a sure sign that he's happy, and he walks over to start making their bed up, knowing Jace likes things neat--he doesn't really see the point in making the bed if they're just going to mess it up, but he indulges Jace anyway. 

Jace mindlessly goes to help, toeing out of his shoes as he rearranges the pillows. He keeps going back and forth on his idea, unsure if it's a good or bad one. It could bring too much hope, and that could eventually be crushed. Mere months ago, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea, so cynical and rigid that he wouldn't have set himself or the others up for the possibility of devastation, always believing hope would be crushed at every turn. 

He's been through enough to know that isn't the case anymore. Even if the cure isn't exactly what anyone was expecting, it has changed the world.  _ They  _ have changed the world.

"Earth to Jace," Simon calls out in amusement, shooting Jace a curious look. "You were a million miles away. What's going on in your head?" 

Jace clears his throat as he flips the cover back and slides into it. "Just a thought." 

"About what?" Simon chirps, easing into the bed beside Jace and blinking at him patiently as they settle back against their pillows. 

"I...have an idea. I don't know if it's a good one or not, or whether anyone will be open to it." Jace turns to frown at Simon. "We  _ just  _ got settled after everything with the lab." 

Simon's eyebrows raise. "What, another quest? Dude, we're the heroes of this story, remember? Jonathan even has superpowers. We're not meant to stay still and relax for too long. Such is the curse of being the main characters." 

"Jonathan doesn't have superpowers." 

"He kind of does, though. Like Spider-Man, except he got dope powers from a zombie bite instead of a spider bite." 

Jace snorts. "You're not going to start calling him Zombie-Man, are you?" 

"I think Zombie King suits him just fine, thank you very much." Simon sniffs theatrically in mock offense, then smiles softly. "So, tell me about this idea of yours. I'll tell you if it's good or not." 

"Well…" Jace clears his throat and scans Simon's relaxed features. "Other people are hearing about what's happening up here. Survivor groups are starting to reach out, people thinking we're a sanctuary, everyone wanting to try and make it here. I was just thinking…" 

Simon blinks at him. "Yeah? What, do you want to go out and get them? Bring them up here and help them start new lives?" 

"Sure," Jace says, shrugging one shoulder. "I mean, that is only part of it, I guess. I was just thinking that we still don't know what happened to your mom or Becky. And--and Robert could still be out there somewhere with Max." 

"Oh," Simon says softly, his eyes widening a little as he stares at Jace, "you want to go and look for them." 

Jace nods mutely. 

He has no idea how Simon's going to react to this idea, and he's not exactly eager to find out. It's probably stupid, probably banking on  _ too much _ hope, probably a lead into disappointment. It'd be stupid to search that out, to set themselves up for that. 

Simon still hasn't said anything else, and Jace is just about to look up and take it all back when lips press firmly into his. Jace's eyes jerk up in surprise, then almost immediately flutter shut, and he releases a shaky breath as Simon kisses him deeply. Fingers slide into his hair as Simon holds his head still, kissing him hard and intense from the angle that he wants, making Jace breathless in a heartbeat. 

It takes Simon a moment to yank away, but when he does, Jace is panting. "What was that for?" he asks in a tinny voice full of desire. 

Simon clears his throat. "I just--you've come a long way, Jace. Not too long ago, you would have been too worried about the outcome to even take the chance. It's...optimistic, and positive, and  _ hopeful,  _ and I guess I'm just--I'm proud of you, that's all." 

"If that's how you react to me being optimistic, then I really fucking hope we have eggs for breakfast tomorrow," Jace murmurs with a weak smile. 

"I'm being serious for once," Simon says gently. 

Jace is contrite immediately. "I know. I think I, um, started allowing myself to want things because of you. And it feels like I have everything I always wanted, even when I was too fucked up to admit it--my family is safe, I'm with you, people are  _ happy.  _ Maybe it's greedy, but I'm thinking that maybe things could get even better." 

"Maybe they can," Simon agrees, his smile bright and beaming, eyes shining with delight. "I think your idea is good, really good." 

"It'll be another long journey. Probably even longer than the last one." 

"Yeah, I know." 

"Even with Jonathan, it will be insanely dangerous. He can't control people." 

"Uh huh. Know that, too." 

"It could…" Jace trails off, his throat thick as the real reason he's holding back gets lodged there. He stares at Simon cautiously. "Simon, we could go, and maybe we find exactly what we've been looking for. But...maybe we don't." 

Simon smiles at him and reaches out to take his hand, threading their fingers together and squeezing supportively. Gentle as a breeze, he whispers, "There is only one way to find out." 

Just like that, a simple leap of faith, falling without knowing where you'll land. It's as terrifying as all the times before, but now, Jace can see the thrill of it. The exhilaration of daring to try, of finding hope amidst constant tragedy and the continuous ability to climb back up and leap forward over and over. 

He wants that. They all do, he thinks. After everything, they deserve it. Maybe it's crazy, maybe it's impossible, maybe they're pushing their luck...but they all have things to believe in, reasons to live, people they love. It's worth it just to try. More than just surviving…

The decision to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, folks. Let me just say that this story is, hands down, my favorite fic I have ever written. I knew going into it that it wouldn't really matter what kind of feedback I got to it, if I got any at all, just because I had the best time writing it. The story swallowed me whole and I fell in love with it so much that I started making moodboards before I even posted it. 
> 
> With that being said, I am so thankful for all the lovely feedback I HAVE received, and it means a lot to me that some of you really enjoyed the fic. I've been introduced to some wonderful people through this fic, and I've had so many smiles and warm and fuzzies from your comments. I honestly can never thank any of you enough. 
> 
> Now, usually, I don't go into long-winded rambling in these notes (and I apologize), but I have 3 more important points to cover. 
> 
> First, there are 23 moodboards, one for each chapter, and some of them took me half an hour to make, while other took a couple of hours. Now, I didn't post them along in the story because I wanted to be more active on my SH Tumblr (jimonsprettyface) and I hoped that previewing my fic there with the moodboard and an excerpt would bring in some readers there! It may or may not have worked, i don't really know, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Will I do it again? Maybe not, maybe so, we will see! But I also know that some of you didn't see them in time, or don't have tumblrs, or just didn't want to look outside of this fic. So, i went ahead and put each moodboard at the top of their chapter, that way anyone can go back and look at them if they wish, and new readers won't have to go search it out on my blog. 
> 
> Second, I will, however, be posting a masterlist with links to all chapter moodboards/links on my tumblr TO my tumblr. I'm doing this to have a cohesive, neat spot that someone can look at the moodboards and such. It will be on my tumblr, under the tag: project angel. immunity. cure. 
> 
> And lastly, that ending seemed kinda...open, huh? Well, if you think so, then you're right! The reason for that is...I have a sequel I'm working on right now and will be posting at some point, just like this one. So, I will be turning this into a series. If you want to see more, subscribe to me and the series, and it won't be too long ;) 
> 
> Alright, enough outta me. Thank you all so, so much for being lovely and encouraging. Thank you to all who will read it in the future and leave comments! Just...thank you ❤ I hope you're all staying safe and happy. 
> 
> Ta! 
> 
> -SOBS
> 
> EDIT: 
> 
> Oh my god, the lovely Colorful Warlock wrote an adorable Missing Scene Fanfic of this fanfic! It's a lovely little moment for Malec set around the time after they returned home and Jonathan started cleaning the world up! Go check it out here
> 
> A big, huge thank you to them for that! ❤

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please subscribe and drop off some kudos! Also, leave me a comment telling me your thoughts; I really love hearing from you all. 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I'm not afraid anymore](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955142) by [ColorfulWarlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulWarlock/pseuds/ColorfulWarlock)




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